


Fixing What You Broke

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Love Triangles, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 119,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347
Summary: ** COMPLETE**After Hermione left her post-Hogwarts education, she never expected to run into Draco Malfoy in South America on her holiday.But she did.She never expected to fall in love with him during that holiday.But she did.She never in a million years expected to return to London to the Prophet announcing his engagement to Astoria Greengrass.But... she did.Hermione throws herself into fixing her personal life after Draco Malfoy tore it to shreds but it's not as easy as she keeps telling herself.----This story is a spin off from a Grey's Anatomy plot line! It DOES include DIRECT and SLIGHTLY ALTERED quotes from the show!





	1. Prologue: Cartagena

**Author's Note:**

> EEEEKK!! I'm so excited to share this story! 
> 
> A HUGE, MEGA, GIGANTIC, ENORMOUS THANK YOU to SweetLilBullet. I would say she Beta'd this... but she Alpha'd it and she kicked my butt when I almost quit it because I couldn't find my way. It wouldn't exist without you! I'll be thanking you again and again and again, so just get used to it. 
> 
> This story was born while watching Grey's Anatomy reruns. It loosely follows the plot of Mer/Der and more importantly it includes some of the more memorable quotes of Season 3. 
> 
> You most definitely do not have to of seen Grey's to follow along, but you will notice a couple similarities if you have. 
> 
> This first chapter is pretty lengthy, and I would consider it more of a prequel. 
> 
> I have the majority of the story done! So I'll try to keep my updates super regular as I finish the rest!
> 
> Extra Note : I don't speak Spanish. I used my trust Google Translate. If you notice I am a complete ass and would like to correct Google, please let me know!
> 
> HUGE BIG MEGA NOTE: This piece includes DIRECT and SLIGHTLY ALTERED quotes from Grey's Anatomy and Shonda Rhimes. My intention is in NO WAY to plagiarize anyone's work... but because it is inspired by/crossover/mirrors one of it's storylines, I really wanted to include a few of the quotes from the show. I'm sorry if this offends you! Please don't feel as though you need to continue to read!

As soon as Hermione’s portkey had arrived on South American soil, she felt a heavy weight lift off of her shoulders. No one on earth, save the woman at the International Portkey Office, knew she was here. She was blissfully off the radar, telling her friends only that she was out of the country and to expect her back in two weeks.

 

Three weeks ago, she spun a globe and her finger landed in the ocean, just a breath away from Cartagena, Colombia. She had owled the Portkey office that afternoon and began researching different places to stay.  She rented one of those charming little city villas with a beautiful view of colored buildings and stunning architecture.

 

She was in desperate need of a holiday.

 

Her post-Hogwarts education had led to Beauxbatons where she studied heavily in Wizard Law and Care of Fantastical Beasts. It had become her passion over the past several years and one that she had become fanatical over.

 

Secondary schooling wasn’t necessary to secure a position in the wizarding world, but it didn’t hurt. And Hermione had felt jilted by her final years of Hogwarts. She hadn’t spent nearly as much time as she should in her studies and an extra two years studying in Paris, was far from a nightmare in her eyes.

 

But school was now, regrettably, over. She had passed her final examination with outstanding scores and secured a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry and would be beginning at the end of the month.

 

The real world with all it’s tediousness called to her and if she was honest, she longed for it. She had experienced more adventure in her short almost 21 years than most could claim in a lifetime.

 

She found a cozy flat in Wizarding London and looked forward to moving into it upon her return. She would be close to an adorable cafe and tiny bookshop that she had already patronized a time or two before deciding on that location. She had been lucky in finding a few hidden gems already, including a 1st Edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them that she had snatched up so quickly she must have looked like she found a sack of galleons hidden in the stacks.

 

As a loud honk screamed in the streets, she was brought abruptly back to the present.

 

Cartagena was alive with movement, the colors and the people decorated the city so beautifully that it took her breath away. Women were carrying baskets of fruit on their heads and a beautiful cobblestone walkway wrapped neatly around each building.

 

She wasn’t quite dressed for vacation yet, still in her denims, trainers and a Beauxbaton’s shirt she had thrown on this morning. She let Ginny help pack her bag and she had taken some creative liberties by coloring it up with some of her more beautiful and loud pieces that Hermione was desperately lacking.

 

Hermione found the address she had been hunting for and lifted her hands to her brow to block the sun as she appraised the building.

 

The entire building was painted a bright fuschia and the balconies were a deep emerald, one for almost each window. She never would have paired the two shades together, but along with all the brightness of the rest of the city, it was truly stunning. There was a thick blanket of vines reaching from each balcony, never ceasing as it jumped from window to window.

 

She took a deep breath and could smell the traditional Colombian cuisine she had been reading about. She had already made a list of all the foods she thought she might enjoy so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed at a restaurant.

 

She stepped under the shade of the second floor balcony and found a small buzzer next to the orange door. She rang it and stepped back, her eyes darting up the road to take in every moment.

 

A few short moments later and the front door was opening widely, a short and colorful woman with a bright red scarf tied over her hair stepped out into the sun with her.

 

“¿Hola, como puedo ayudarte?” the woman asked with a small smile and a short raise of her brow.

 

Bollocks.

 

Hermione had meant to cast her Translation Charm before she knocked but had been distracted by the new sights of the city.

 

“Oh, err-- Ayudar? To help?” she scrunched up half her face as she tried to remember some of her basic spanish from pre-Hogwarts. She had considered walking around the corner and casting the spell and then returning, “Oh! I know,” she reached into her bag and groaned.

 

Undetectable Extension Charm at work. She tried not to be too conspicuous as she rummaged around the giant bag that looked to this woman’s eyes like a satchel, smiling at her every few seconds as she frantically hunted. Her fingers wrapped around the tiny spanish translation book that she had packed and sighed in relief, yanking it out.

 

An umbrella fell out on the ground between them, one that could have never fit in her small crossbody bag and Hermione let out a nervous laugh and tucked it under her shoulder.

 

“Right, um, Yo soy Hermione Granger. I have… let’s see… um,” she laughed awkwardly again, flipping through the pages of her tiny book, “¿Habla Inglés?.

 

“No,” the woman's lips tightened and wrinkled, she was losing patience with Hermione and that made her heart start to quicken.

 

“Tengo un reservation? I’m staying here! Si! Si!” she found a page she might find useful, “dormir por… por… two weeks?,” she shrugged and grimaced trying to come off as a clueless tourist and not a bumbling ignorant Englishwoman.

 

“Senora Carmen! ¿Cómo estás hoy? ¿Esta mujer te está molestando?”

 

Hermione turned when she recognized a voice from her childhood and with a furrowed brow her eyes landed on the last person in the world she had expected to see here in Colombia.

 

“Dr-Draco Malfoy?” she looked around nervously, unaware of what was actually going on, “What on earth are you doing here?” she snapped the book shut she was holding and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

 

“I’m here on business, Granger,” he said with a neutral expression, “and I happen to come across you harassing sweet Senora Carmen here.”

 

Draco leaned in to kiss Senora Carmen on both cheeks and the old woman brightened.

 

“¿Qué quiere esta chica? Ella está siendo extraña. ¿La conoces?” the woman spoke to Draco in a hushed voice and Hermione, while she couldn’t translate her words, seemed to easily pick up on the tone. She bristled.

 

“Malfoy, would you _please_ tell this woman that I have made a reservation under Granger and am staying in her villa for the next 2 weeks? I… I’ve forgotten my translator,” she hoped he would understand.

 

Malfoy rolled his eyes and spoke quietly to the woman.

 

She hadn’t seen Malfoy in quite some time, years actually. He had gotten taller or maybe it was because he wasn’t always lurking that made him appear taller. He was wearing a white linen shirt with the first few buttons undone and light gray trousers. He looked far too casual to be attending to business but then Hermione noticed the tie and suit jacket draped over his arm.

 

His hair was cropped short but the top of it still had a little length and the fringe was dusting over his forehead. She hadn’t remembered it being so white, she always thought it kind of a putrid yellowy blonde, but here in the South American sun it was practically glowing.

 

The woman looked sadly at Hermione as Draco spoke and then retreated into her home leaving the door open.

 

“What’s going on?” Hermione crossed her arms and her foot turned out, a nasty habit.

 

“How have you been Granger? I see the South American heat does a number on your mane,” he narrowed his eyes at her and his lip curled up as he took in her wild locks.

 

“You’ve always been such a git,” she snarled and without thinking wrapped her hair up into a messy knot on the top of her head.

 

Senora Carmen emerged and dropped a key into Draco’s hand and Draco smiled warmly at her, “Gracias, Senora Carmen,” he purred.

 

“Si! Gracias!” Hermione called after as she slammed the door behind her, Draco chuckled under breath.

 

“Why are you harassing me?” She held out her hand for a key.

 

“Harassing? We have a much different definition of the word, I’m afraid. I would think saving you on the street corner of a foreign land to be quite chivalrous,” Draco held the key back, just past arm's length of Hermione.

 

“Thank you for your help, _Malfoy_ ,” she all but snarled, “Key.”

 

Hermione cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, waiting.

 

“Now, that’s hardly polite. Mother would be clutching the family pearls if she heard a young women speaking in such a way.”

 

She made a quick hand movement to snatch the keys but Malfoy was quicker and yanked them back.

 

“Uh, uh, uh,” he chided, “Come on, Granger… just one little ‘please’?” he gave her a slimy, condescending smile.

 

She grit her teeth, “please,” she said through a tight jaw.

 

Draco flung her key in the air, tossing it high so that she had to peer into the mid-afternoon sun to try and retrieve them. She failed and they bounced into a sewer grate.

 

She mumbled a, “stupid-son-of-a--” as she kneeled over by the grate and surreptitiously brought her wand out of her pocket.

 

“Adios, Granger! Disfruta tu tiempo en Columbia!” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowds.

 

She accio’d the key quickly and stood wiping off her knees.

 

What were the odds of Draco bleeding Malfoy showing up to rescue her on a street in Cartagena. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply through her nose, held it for 4 seconds and then let out a cleansing breath through her mouth. A trick she had learned from Madame Bernard at Beauxbatons.

 

She looked to the flight of stairs tucked next to the entry and took them up, glancing down at her key which read 4A.

 

By the time she had reached the top floor she was panting like she had just run several miles. This slightly embarrassed her but was quickly shelved due to her excitement of entering her villa.

 

As she turned the key and the door swung open, she was far from disappointed. The room was bathed in the same rich jewel tones that adorned the streets and it all felt somehow simultaneously modern and historic. She wandered from the updated kitchen to the living room with its beautiful upholstery.

 

She kicked off her shoes and let her feet sink into the plush rug. Directly in front of her were two large doors that led to the first of her private balconies and overlooked the bustle of the city below.

 

She walked onto the terrace and let her hands slide along the railing. She wondered if she should get some takeaway for dinner tonight or if it was perhaps a night to travel into town and explore.

 

She returned into the villa and walked towards the master suite, which housed a massive four poster king size bed with lovely white mosquito netting hanging from the top. The sheets were white and fluffy and she couldn’t stop herself from crawling into the middle and spreading her arms and legs as far as they could go, trying to reach the corners of the bed without luck.

 

She took out a small magical camera and turned it so she was taking a photo of herself, her wild hair splayed out all around her on the white duvet and a grin stretching across her freckled face.

 

The photo printed out of the bottom of the camera immediately and she set it on the nightstand to finish it’s exposure.

 

She kicked her feet quickly up and down and squealed. Just then she noticed the giant window leading to her second balcony, this time off the other side of the building on a quieter street.

 

There was a giant lounging chair and the sun was hitting the balcony so perfectly she thought she might get a bit of sun this afternoon.

 

Finally she visited her master bath, which was over-indulgent with a giant claw foot tub that looked almost big enough for Hagrid to have a soak in. Everything was white in here and the pieces of the room seemed to be dipped in gold.

 

She walked back into the master room and reached into her crossbody bag, she felt the handle of her luggage and lifted it with a grunt.

 

Her mother had always taught her to unpack her suitcase if she was staying anywhere more than a single night. So she took her time to unpack her toiletries and hang up her clothes.

 

At the bottom of her luggage she found a small pink bag and her brows furrowed. Inside she found a card and something was lightly wrapped in pink tissue.

 

_Hermione,_

 

_You’ve never been one for luck but your hard work has paid off and it’s time to GET LUCKY! Enjoy your holiday ;)_

 

_Xx_

 

_Gin_

 

Hermione’s brows pulled together and she unwrapped the small package. She gave a half scoff - half laugh when she realized it was a few pieces of lingerie.

 

“GINNY WEASLEY!” she scolded from half a world away. She shoved it back in its bag, then back in the luggage and closed the luggage up. She then pushed it towards the closet and slammed the doors.

 

“Now what?” she said to herself. This was quite possibly the first time she didn’t have school or war to worry about and she felt… empty handed. She sighed and looked towards the balcony and shrugged.

 

She moved quickly to change into the modest bikini she had packed and grabbed her large sunhat.

 

Before she began changing, a parrot knocked on the window.

 

She was confused for the briefest of moments before she remembered she had ordered the bird from the local magical aviary.

 

She wanted to send word to her friends that she had arrived safely and thought of the picture on her nightstand. She picked it up and was about to scrawl a note on it when she had a better idea.

 

Within 10 minutes the beautiful macaw was headed back to London and instead of the photo on the bed, it was carrying a photo of her in the sun with a giant sun hat and the shoulders of her bikini.

 

“Safe and sound. See you in two weeks! -H”

  


\-----

 

She had decided that it was no night to stay in, it being her very first night and all. So after laying in the sun for almost two hours, she appraised herself in the mirror. She was already looking quite sunkissed and her freckles were far more prominent on her face.

 

She decided on a floral high-low dress with sleeves that fell loosely off her shoulder. She had very nearly had a panic attack as she tried it on and then almost turned around when she was half way down the stairs, but she took a deep cleansing breath and remembered that no one knew her here. She was safe to wear whatever she damn well pleased! Not that she wasn’t in London or Paris… but, well, being Hermione Granger meant something to certain people. She needed to maintain an air of modesty about her.

 

She had fallen in love with this dress in the small Parisian boutique and her insecurities were not going to keep her from wearing it. Although, she kept constantly tugging at the fabric trying to make more of it appear than she was able to.

 

On her way out the building, Senora Carmen was sitting at a small table for two outside the entry to what Hermione assumed was her home. She gave Hermione another sad smile and shook her head as Hermione looked at curiously and turned the corner. That was odd.

 

She found a small cafe and paused in the alley before entering, almost forgetting to cast her translation charm. She had used it a lot in Paris when she first moved, knowing only very rudimentary French at best. She was now much closer to fluent, but there were still some glaring holes and inaccuracies, especially when she was with several native speakers who spoke quickly and in colloquialisms.

 

The charm worked simply, changing her tongue to Spanish and theirs to English.

 

The cafe was dark and vibrant and there was a small dance floor in front of a tiny stage that held a beautiful Colombian woman at a microphone and a few musicians. Her voice was low and breathy and the music swam in the air around her. She could smell the salty breeze off the  ocean from here and it all felt like a memory she would relive for years to come.

 

She sat up at the high bar stool and a local man slid a menu in front of her.

 

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked kindly, she breathed a sigh of relief at understanding him.

 

“This is my first night in Columbia, do you have anything you suggest?”

 

“We have the best Refajo in all of Cartagena. One?” his tongue curled around the ‘r’ sound as he spoke.

 

She smiled politely and opened her mouth to answer when a familiar drawl interrupted her perfectly pleasant evening.

 

“Two, please,” Malfoy leaned onto the counter facing her and his right hand played with a small ring on his left.

 

She felt a blush spread up her jaw as she realized her shoulders were showing in front of Draco Malfoy.

 

“I hope you don’t expect me to pay for that,” she narrowed her eyes at him as the bartender retreated.

 

Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically, “Mind if I join you?”

 

“Yes, actually,” she spat, agitated, as he sat down.

 

“You know, I don’t know why you’ve shoved your wand up your own ass--”

 

“Excuse me! You vile, evil--”

 

“Little cockroach, yea, yea… You’ve used that before, you know. Maybe think up some new material next time--”

 

“Oh, I can think of plenty right now--”

 

“If you’d have let me finish--”

 

“Spoiled prat--”

 

“You’d have heard me say, I don’t know _why_ you’ve shoved your wand up your own ass--”

 

Hermione snarled and took the drink from the bartender without the same friendly smile, bringing the straw to her lips.

 

“But, Potter and Weasel seem to have found that I am far more charming than you lot ever gave me credit for in school. You should get over your prejudices and stop treating me so poorly.”

 

Hermione began coughing violently as she choked on the carbonated drink.

 

He quirked an eyebrow at her and brought his drink to his lips, pinching the straw beneath his pointer finger and drinking out the glass directly.

 

“My, MY prejudices?! Are you barking?”

 

“Well, I’ve been nothing but perfectly pleasant. Helped you when you were without a translator, obtained your keys, asked to join you for dinner… I seem to have let old prejudices die, while you yet cling to yours like a dying man to his wand.”

 

His eyes flashed with a challenge and his lips twitched into a playful smirk but Hermione’s vision blurred as rage filled her body.

 

She closed her eyes, deep breath in, hold four seconds, exhale.

 

“Malfoy, I have no prejudice against you, as a prejudice is a pre existing opinion not based on actual fact or experience. In my first hand knowledge, I find you to be an incorrogible, spoiled, narcissitic, condescending arsehole.”

 

She thought that would be the end of the conversation. It certainly felt like the period at the end of a run on sentence… but he laughed.  He laughed a big belly laugh and pulled the stool out next to her and sat down, raising a finger to the bartender, signaling he would like a menu.

 

“You may not eat with me,” she said with finality, less he decide to misinterpret her turn of phrase.

 

He made a show of looking over his shoulder, “Did I miss it? Do you own this bar?”

 

She took another deep breath and pushed it out past her lips.

 

She chewed on her straw, a habit of hers when she was feeling uncomfortable or feeling drunk, which she was currently experiencing both.

 

“What’s in this drink?” she asked with an accusatory tone at Malfoy.

 

“I’m not dining with you,” he took another long drink and stared at his menu.

 

“Why do you have to act this way?” she huffed.

 

“Why do you get to act so self-righteous and expect me to remain my calm and polite self?” he raised his brow at her.

 

“You’re obnoxious,” she rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Your hair is obnoxious,” he said, his voice thick with immaturity.

 

A laugh bubbled past her lips and her hand shot up to cover her mouth. She turned to him and his brow was perched high on his forehead and she laughed fully, throwing her head back.

 

“Another?” the bartender paused before them.

 

“Please,” Draco said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her laugh.

 

“Is that honestly the best you could come up with? ‘ _Your hair is obnoxious?’”_ she mocked.

 

“It’s been a long day,” he shrugged, “and your teeth are fixed now, I’m running out of things to make fun of you for.”

 

She blushed, from the drink, she reasoned.

 

Running out of things to make fun of her for? As if it had only ever been her hair or teeth… right. She rolled her eyes again, but this time more playfully, the drink causing her guard to fall and she felt herself loosening up.  

 

Another bubbly drink appeared and she slurped the remainder of the one in her hands, feeling the affects on her ears as they warmed and turned red.

  
She ordered a few Arepas, a traditional food that had made her list of pre-approved cuisines to try.

 

“Tamales, please,” Malfoy nodded and gave a polite half smile. He turned back to her, opening up his chest so that his elbow rested on the back of his stool, “How’s Paris?”

 

He knew she was in Paris?

 

“It’s over, actually. Exams finished just days ago, hence the reason for the holiday. I start at the Ministry in two weeks, thought I might see a small corner of the world first.”

 

“Where’d you get in?” he cocked his head at her, no sneer or insult waiting, just talking.

 

“Magical Creatures,” she smiled into her drink, proud of herself, “I’m not totally at the bottom of the food chain. Beauxbatons helped, the Headmistress gave me a sparkling recommendation,” she beamed and Draco huffed.

 

“Did you expect anyone in the world to give anything but a sparkling recommendation to Hermione Granger, Golden Girl?”

 

She ignored him, “I’ll be working with Creature Rights and working to pass real laws. Laws that will actually affect this entire class of magical beings,” she was starting to rant before she remembered it was Malfoy and he definitely did not care, “So you’re not working at the ministry? But… with the ministry?”

 

“I’m a freelance curse-breaker,” he said simply.

 

“Why not just work for the Ministry? Harry said they hire you enough,” she asked, genuinely curious.

 

“They can’t afford me,” he smirked, “They can only afford my rate on a case by case basis, as it were.

 

She scoffed. She had never once imagined doing something solely based on money.

 

“Typical,” she said cooly.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Well, it just seems very… well, very Slytherin of you. Someone who doesn’t ever have to worry about money for the rest of his days is charging an arm and a leg for his services. It’s just, well, it’s not something that I’ve ever even considered,” she turned her nose up as she looked forward.

 

“How incredibly noble of you, Granger,” he narrowed his eyes, “And also presumptuous, to think you know anything about my estate. I’m good at what I do, really damn good. Do you think that means I don’t deserve to be appropriately compensated?”

 

“It’s funny,” she squared her shoulders at him, “that you seem to think that you deserve fair wages for fair hours, but your house elves do not,” she arched an accusatory brow at him.

 

“And what in the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he said lowly.

 

“Well you’ve enslaved your house staff to work for free, denying them their freedom and their opportunity to work for wages. It’s sickening, really…” she turned her nose up at him again and signaled to the bartender for a third round of drinks.

 

Draco was sucking his tongue between his cheek and there was a flame behind his silver eyes that would normally have sent chills down her spine, but she had an air of confidence from the alcohol.

 

The bartender dropped off two more drinks and with eyes still locked on Hermione, Malfoy said, “A bottle of tequila, please. Limes and Salt as well,” Hermione gave him a look.

 

“I’m NOT doing tequila shots, Malfoy.”

 

“Let’s play a game. We used to play it all the time at Hogwarts… I’ll tell you three things and you have to spot the lie. If you guess right, I’ll take the shot. If you guess wrong, you take the shot. Deal?”

 

Hermione considered the proposition. It was holiday, and she had no doubt that she could read Draco Malfoy like a book.

 

“Deal,” she said with a smirk.

 

The tequila, limes, salt and two shot glasses were on the table in front of them and Draco swiftly poured about half a shot in each glass.

 

Draco squinted his eyes as he stared at her face.

 

“ 1. I have a Dark Mark on my arm. 2. I employ Free Elves and pay them far above the standard wage. 3. I became a turncoat during the war and fed information to the Order.”

 

Hermione very nearly laughed out loud.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Draco laughed and it sounded so very strange coming from his mouth.

 

“Well you obviously have the mark, Harry saw it,” she watched his face for a hint as she spoke, a tell that he gave when he said the truth, but his expression was completely neutral and he brought his drink to his lips and took a long drink, “But I know, I mean… knew, I knew Dobby,” she shook her head from the memory, “And I know the working conditions of the elves at Malfoy Manor. But I also know that it’d be a cold day in hell before you turned sides in the War… Although, it would explain why everyone got so chummy with you in recent history.”

 

She cocked her head from side to side and for a moment was drawn to the music from behind her. As the hour grew later, the music grew more vibrant and couples were getting up to dance together, spinning each other and laughing in the salty night air.

 

“You’re lying about the elves,” she said quickly, her mind made up.

 

He smirked and pushed the shot glass towards her.

 

“Not possible,” she exclaimed.

 

He pushed the sleeves of his button up shirt higher towards his elbows and low and behold, no mark.

 

“But… Harry said, he said he saw your mark!”

 

“Faded after You-know-who died,” Draco shrugged and pushed the shot closer.

 

“That’s a technicality! You still had one!”

 

“I said, ‘I have a Dark Mark on my arm’. Malfoy Manor also used to enslave House Elves and there was a time I wasn’t a turncoat. The tense of the fact matters here, Granger. Sorry,” he shrugged and pushed it another few inches towards her.

 

She growled and grabbed the shot glass, a lime and some salt. She licked the back of her hand and dumped salt on it, some of it spilling onto her lap.

 

She licked the salt quickly, gave a quick wince as she looked at the shot glass and then threw that back before slicing through the lime with her teeth and letting the juice chase away the bite of tequila. She did a little dance in her seat, chills running down her spine from the tequila.

 

“Ack! I hate tequila,” she shook her head and grabbed her bubbly drink, still trying to chase away the flavor.

 

“But does tequila hate you? Because that’s the only thing that truly matters,” he winked and grabbed his shot glass, downing it with no salt or lime.

 

Show off.

 

“Your turn, Granger,” he smirked and her heart did a weird little flutter. Were they flirting? Surely not.

 

She thought for a moment, not sure she was willing to share any of her secrets with Draco Malfoy. But the shot of tequila was making her feel alive and she wanted to chase that feeling.

 

“I’m a virgin. I let Viktor Krum feel me up, under the shirt, in the Hogwarts Library. Ron cheated on me while I was at Beauxbatons.”

 

She tried to keep a straight face but she hadn’t mastered it the way he had and a smile was playing on her lips as her shoulders started to sway to the music, her eyes darting back to the dance floor.

 

“You’re not a virgin.”

 

Hermione’s breath left her in a little puff. Damnit. He was right. She made a face.

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“I heard about you and Krum,” his lip curled up oddly, “and I know that Ron Weasley would never in a million years cheat on you.”

 

“You may be right there,” she sighed.

 

“Are you guys… together?” he asked, his voice had a strange tone to it.

 

“No,” she laughed, “No, that never really came of anything. One kiss during the battle, followed by an awkward hand hold and another attempted kiss where we both ended up laughing and we decided it was better to remain friends. He then started sleeping with any girl who would have him and I now would no sooner touch him with a broom handle.”

 

She smiled at the memory. For awhile it had hurt, so much of her childhood was spent falling in love with Ron Weasley. She had grieved the relationship that would never be. But now she knew she could look on the memories with a smile, and that’s how she knew she had moved on.

 

“Let’s play again,” he smiled and she nodded cautiously. She couldn’t help but feel this chemistry surging between them. It felt wrong and exciting and she didn’t want to get up and leave it just yet.

 

They played a few more rounds, in which Hermione learned that Draco had broken 4 bones, had been scared of heights as a child and that he lost his virginity to Millicent Bulstrode. He had shivered as he revealed that one and Hermione guessed it quickly over rapturous laughter.

 

During the game, Draco’s arm had come to rest over the back of her chair and Hermione was turned towards him laughing freely as he spoke.

 

Her eyes still darted to the dance floor and finally Draco stood and held out his hand.

 

“What?” she furrowed her brows as she stared at his offered hand.

 

“Let’s go,” he cocked his head toward the stage, “Music like this wasn’t meant to be watched,” he smirked and it reached the corners of his eyes. She hesistantly placed her hand in his and the floor swayed under her slightly as the alcohol settled into her standing form.

 

“I can’t dance to this,” she raised her voice over the music.

 

“That’s ok,” he let his arm extend to it’s full reach as she eyed him warily. He gave her a quick tug and wrapped his other arm around her waist and brought their joined hands up, his hips circling against hers, “I can.”

 

She laughed against his chest as he twirled her around the dance floor to the lively music. Her feet seemed to know exactly what to do as he led her through what seemed like a perfectly choreographed and yet also spontaneous dance routine. She fumbled a few times and he would help her as she laughed through her mistakes.

 

Their faces seemed to get closer and closer as the music changed and the couples started thinning on the dance floor.

 

He gave her another big twirl and she fell into his embrace.

 

The music shifted and a slower, more intimate song came from the young singer. In an instant the cafe seemed to dim and quiet but Draco didn’t release her after the change in tempo. His hand was low on her back and drew her closer yet, until their bodies were pressed against each other.

 

He paused as he waited for the beat and then when the appropriate time came he moved them in a slow and synchronized movement. A dance she had never done with steps that seemed to come so naturally to him.

 

She gulped as her eyes found his. They were staring down at her and she felt his grip tighten quickly and then release on her side.

 

“I should probably go,” she whispered.

 

“Me too,” he breathed over her cheek, his face coming slowly closer towards her.

 

“It’s getting late,” she murmured as their lips closed in, only a turn of the head from meeting for the first time.

 

“Yes, it is,” he agreed but didn’t move them.

 

She wasn’t sure who closed the distance, it was maybe both of them at the same time. Regardless, the distance had been closed and she was standing, barefoot, in a Columbian bar kissing Draco Malfoy.

 

Not just kissing, but _kissing._

 

His hand that had been joined with hers had abandoned its post and found sanctuary at the nape of her neck, wrapping his long fingers in her curls and turning her head so that he might have better access to her mouth.

 

She gasped at the expertise of his movements, the way his arm snaked even further around her waist and brought her closer to him. His teeth nipped her bottom lip and she gasped, opening her mouth so that he might dart his tongue into meet hers. She moaned as her hands wrapped up around his neck and drew him in closer.

 

She was panting as the kiss regrettably ended and she took a step back, her mind not comprehending what had just happened. Draco’s chest was heaving as well and his skin was tainted pink.

 

“I’m s--” he started.

 

“Please, don’t…” she closed her eyes and took a step back, “Don’t say your sorry,” she shook her head and opened her eyes to peer up at him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, I don’t want to hear that you regret kissing me. It would just… ruin everything,” she laughed hollowly, “It’s ok if you do, but no girl wants to be kissed like that and hear that the git regrets doing so,” she gave a sort of hollow laugh.

 

She realized she sounded kind of ridiculous. But she’d had a perfectly lovely night, despite the odds, and she didn’t want to remember anything else.

 

He smirked at her and grabbed her hand twirling her once more as the music picked up again and when he snapped her body into his he lifted her and kissed her again, this time more quickly, casually… before setting her down and moving their bodies in time with the music.

 

After another few songs, the lights began to come up. Draco paid their tab, even after Hermione threw a fit about feminism and not needing a man to pay her way. He had responded with an eye roll and guided her, barefoot, out of the bar.

 

“I thought for sure you’d be a lightweight, Granger. But tonight, I have to say, you surprised me,” he smirked down at his shoes. They weren’t far from Hermione’s villa.

 

“The French can drink and when in Rome!” she giggled.

 

“You mean Paris? Merlin, you are drunk,” he gave her a skeptical glare as they held hands.

 

“It’s a Muggle Expression. How long are you here?” she asked, swallowing thickly. Still not able to fully wrap her head around tonight’s events.

 

“Another week, I’d guess. The wizard who hired me has a rather… extensive collection. It’s tricky magic, I don’t foresee myself back in London before next week.”

 

“Where are you staying? With Madame Carmen?”

 

Draco barked out a laugh, “The surest way to have Senora Carmen hate you would be to give her a French title.”

 

Hermione groaned, recognizing her slip, “Hey, why does she keep looking at me like my cat died?”

 

“Oh,” he grinned, “I don’t remember exactly. I’m pretty sure it was something along the lines of you planning this trip with your fiance but he left you at the altar for a much more elderly woman and that’s why you were harassing her because she reminded you of her your ex-fiance’s new lover?” he laughed and she shoved him her mouth hanging open.

 

“That… that is completely preposterous!”

 

“I know, I honestly don’t know how I even thought of it,” he laughed again and brought her into his arms kissing her cheek.

 

“I had fun tonight, Granger. Even with you there,” he smirked and she shoved him again, laughing at his annoying joke.

 

The streets were quiet now and overhead beautiful glowing string bulbs were draped across the street they found themselves embraced in.He leaned down to kiss her again and it felt different than the ones before. It wasn’t hurried and frenzied like the first, but it wasn’t quick and playful like the rest. It was… slow and intentional. His hands drawing her face closer while her own rested on his elbows.

 

He pulled back and they began to walk up the flight of stairs, he led her all the way up to the fourth floor and she panicked. She wasn’t sure if he was expecting more and more importantly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to give it.

 

“Well, this is me, Granger,” he smirked at the door that read 4B.

 

“What? You’re joking,” she gaped.

 

“‘Afraid not,” he leaned down again and barely brushed his lips against hers, “Until next time.”

 

She walked into her villa and out to the balcony, she couldn’t quite believe the turn of events the night had taken.

 

She had started the night arguing with Malfoy and ended it kissing Draco. She laughed to herself. She had never in her life been this carefree and she had still 2 weeks left in Cartagena.

 

There was some music playing softly down the street somewhere and she watched as a pair of lovers walked quietly down the streets. She imagined that must be a lot like what her and Draco appeared to the outside world tonight.

 

She bit her bottom lip as she remembered his hands wound in her hair and his arms around her waist. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his chest against hers and they moved to the music.

 

She walked back to her kitchen and hunted for nothing in particular. Her hands feeling empty and her gut feeling alive with butterflies.

 

Her eyes landed on a bottle of tequila and she grinned. Without giving it much thought she wrapped her hand around the neck of the bottle and made for the front door. She paused as she caught sight of herself in the entry mirror but smiled and said, “Fuck it,” as she opened her door.

 

She was standing just outside Draco’s, thinking of knocking but panicking at what she would say. There must be something kind of devil-may-care that she could quip, something sexy and off hand like ‘well I found this bottle of tequila,’... no, stupid.

 

She was just about to second guess herself and turn around when the door whipped open and a frazzled Draco stepped out bumping straight into her and her tequila.

 

“Fuck, Granger. What are you doing?” he asked, startled.

 

“I… I was…” Now was the time, Granger. Where was your freaking wit and charm and everything else Witch Weekly swore you had, “I was, seeing if you needed a night cap.”

 

She lifted the bottle and peered up at him with giant innocent eyes.

 

He all but growled as he slammed his mouth onto hers and lifted her quickly into his villa. The door closed behind them and he lifted her effortlessly and pushed her back against it, she let out a moan and his mouth assaulted her neck and squeezed at the extra chunk on her thighs.

 

She threw her head to the side to allow him more access to her throat and drug her nails across his scalp, earning a moan from him against her skin. She grinned and tugged at his hair.

 

She wasn’t any kind of sex kitten, not by any stretch of the imagination. She wasn’t sure if it was the tequila or the country or the Draco, but she was feeling primitively sexy.

 

It was just like when they were dancing, he was leading her through these steps she had never dreamed of taking but they felt natural and naughty and wonderful all at once.

 

His hands tugged at the fabric at her chest, trying to expose more of her so that he could kiss more of her and she arched her back into him, eager to oblige.

 

He moved them then, with her ankles locked behind his back and his lips on her shoulders and walked straight into the Master bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

 

\-----

 

Hermione woke with a fuzziness in her brain.

 

She winced at the light streaming through the window and pulled the duvet up over her head to shield herself from it.

 

Her first thought was that she had too much wine with Eloise again. She had always pushed that final glass of wine on her.

 

But the air was different… and that wasn’t all. She was… naked.

 

Like a dam opening, memories of the night before flooded her consciousness.

 

She had argued with Draco… then she had danced with him and she slammed her palms into her eyes as she remembered kissing Draco. They had walked home and ohmygodohmygodohmygod had she actually been standing outside his door with a bottle of tequila?

 

She remembered more after that… his searing kiss against her neck and his expert hands grabbing and leading her into climax, her hair falling around them as she straddled him…

  


Nope. NOPE.

 

She wanted to escape her skin and the embarrassment. Was she in her bed? His? What on earth was he thinking right now? Would he tell everyone?

 

She summoned every ounce of courage and peeked over her shoulder.

 

She sighed. No Draco. But she then heard the rush of the shower head from the adjacent bathroom.

 

Shit.

 

She peeled the covers back and realized she was, without a doubt, not in her room.

 

Fuck.

 

She looked on the floor for her dress and couldn’t find it.

 

Bollocks.

 

She instead wrapped the duvet around her and let her toes dip onto the cold wood floor. She dove down to the floor and peered under the bed, no sign of her dress.

 

She groaned when she heard the shower turn off and steam billowed towards the mirror.

 

Hermione Granger. War Heroine. Golden Girl. Butt naked in Draco Malfoy's hotel room. Fuck. My. Life.

 

She took a deep breath in and tried her best to put on her casual demeanor. She knew she still looked anxious and agitated but what this was the best she had.

 

Draco appeared through the fog of the shower with a large white towel wrapped around his waist. Her mouth went slack as she took in the details she seemed to have overlooked the night before.

 

His body was lean and muscular with deep dips by his hip bones. He had long lines of muscle that all lead towards that blasted towel and Hermione felt her mouth fill with saliva that she quickly swallowed.

 

“Morning, Granger,” he smirked as he rubbed a second towel through his hair, “Sleep ok?”

 

“I… I can’t find my dress…” she swallowed.

 

“Oh,” he let out a dry laugh and reached behind the chair in the corner and made a face as he presented it, “Well, I think it might need a Reparo… I got a little hasty. My apologies,” he threw a wicked grin at her.

 

“Well, I uh, I just needed something to wear home,” she flushed and stuttered.

 

“Granger, we have the only two apartments on the floor. You could walk across stark naked and no one would know. But do feel free to borrow my duvet,” he laughed, “Breakfast?”

 

“Why are you being so casual about all this?”

 

“Excuse me?” he narrowed his eyes and turned towards her.

 

“You heard me,” she gulped, hoping to sound like a lioness but coming off more like a kitten.

 

“You do remember having sexual intercourse with me not but 6 hours ago, correct?”

 

“Yes,” she hissed and turned her nose up in the air.

 

He seemed to laugh at her haughty expression and his offended face turned into a playful snarl.

 

“You remember coming, then? Not once, twice but three times?” he sauntered over to her and she felt the heat spread from her chest to her face and down between her legs.

 

“Draco Malfoy!” she flushed, “Grab me a robe or something!”

 

“What? Don’t remember moaning my name? Again and again and again? I do…”

 

She bit back a smile as he teased her and something felt all at once natural.

 

“You really are an insufferable git,” he was standing before her then and leaned down so his face was hovering just before hers.

 

“You didn’t seem to mind last night,” he smirked.

 

“And your comebacks are shit,” she laughed as he pounced on her pulling back the duvet and she laughed as if it were the most commonplace thing in the world.

 

\----

 

She strode out to the balcony in her robe, the smell of breakfast pulling her out onto the terrace. She eyed a Daily Prophet and her eyes lit up. She hadn’t thought to have it delivered here and made a mental note to have her parrot do just that.

 

She snagged it and started looking through the different sections. She never received the London paper while in Paris and it was strange to see people she once again recognized in the society pages and various headlines.

 

“No news while on holiday,” he snatched the Prophet from her hands.

 

She flushed, “Not fair! Why do you get to read it?”

 

“I’m not on holiday, Granger. I’m here on business, remember?” he sat across from her in a matching robe and grabbed a piece of bacon from the plates between them.

 

She pursed her lips and bit back a smile, reaching for the bacon.

 

\-----

 

“You’re an actual, ass. You know that?”

 

“Because I don’t agree with you?” he replied indignantly.

 

“No, because you’re wrong!”

 

“I’m wrong for not agreeing with you. You can’t see the obvious flaw in this argument?” he snarled.

 

“I’m not right because I think I’m right. I’m right because I AM right!”

 

“You actually aren’t and by the way, ignorance looks awful on you,” he said with a sickenly sweet condescending sneer.

 

“AHHH!” she screamed and threw a pillow at his head which he swiftly ducked, “You ass!”

 

\-----

 

The bubbles of the bath were up to her collarbone and she was relishing in the feeling of his body behind her. His hands caressed her arms, up and down, again and again. She let her head rest on his chest and giggled as his hands moved from her arms to her breast and then gasped as the slipped down her tummy and between her legs.

 

\-----

 

“You can’t move there,” she murmured over the black and white checkered pieces.

 

“This game is fucking stupid,” he growled.

 

“Checkers is just as much fun as Chess. Some would say MORE fun,” she smiled as she hanged herself.

 

“Yea, THOSE people would be muggle children who have never seen a proper game of Wizard’s Chess,” he growled.

 

“Well, I’m not a muggle child,” she kinged herself and did a little shimmy of her shoulders, “And I HAVE seen Wizard’s Chess, I’ve actually played it in a lifesize board, and I still think it’s more fun,” she jumped him and took his piece away.

 

He narrowed his eyes at her, “This is why people think Muggles are lesser than Wizards.”

 

Her eyes snapped up to him about to light him on fire but the look on his face was playful.

 

“This game. This actual game is the entire reason. Wizards must have seen it or something and realized how primitive Muggles are--”

 

She rolled her eyes at him again, “Have I called you a prat yet today?”

 

“Once or twice,” his smile touched his eyes and he double jumped her. A smirk on his lips and a growl on hers.

 

\-----

 

She tied her hair up in a messy knot and leaned far over the table, studying the runes laid out. They’d been staring for hours and finally she saw a pattern.

 

“We’ve been looking at it backwards! Arrange them, here, yes! Just like that!” she grinned up at him. “Have you looked into Haverfield Law? There may be something with that music box having to do with it. It states that--”

 

“I know what it states, Granger. What I don’t know is how it is that you are going to work for sickles at a Ministry that doesn’t deserve you,” he whispered against her hair, hugging her from behind.

 

She winced.

 

She hated thinking of this vacation drawing to an end. This bubble was too perfect and she wasn’t ready to head back to reality. What kind of reality could Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger share anyway.

 

Her chest felt heavy just thinking about it.  

 

“I’m going to miss you,” she turned her face into his and rested her forehead on his cheek.

 

“I’m going to miss you too,” he replied. She felt her heart crack at his response. So he didn’t intend for this to go further.

 

“Can you stay with me for a few more days?” she asked bashfully, “I leave Friday.”

 

“Yes,” he replied simply. No further explanation or question.

 

\-----

 

The warm salt water was so foreign to Hermione and she dipped her toes in for a moment before feeling Draco’s body behind her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her temple. She relaxed for a split second before he lifted her and ran straight into the ocean, falling backwards and taking her under with him. She thrashed coming up and splashed water at him laughing.

 

“Merlin’s beard, Granger. Your hair…”

 

She could only imagine what her mop looked like hanging wet like that, like a drowning cat clinging to it’s owners head.

 

“Oh, shut it, Malfoy,” she growled and he chuckled, flopping back into the ocean.

 

\----

 

Her heart was pounding through her ribcage. She swore he could hear it rattling around in there like a bat trying to escape. She stepped out of her bathroom to find Malfoy lounging on her bed and she dropped her bathrobe.

 

The lingerie from Ginny turned out to be useful but she was horrified of her brazen behavior.

 

He paled and his jaw went slack when he took in the black lace ensemble that her best friend had chosen for her.

 

“Come over here,” he commanded and she squared her shoulders.

 

“No. You come over here,” she challenged with a raised brow.

 

He rolled his eyes, “Headstrong witch.”

 

But he rolled off the bed and moved with catlike grace over to her. She was off her feet and had her back pressed against the wall in moments as he covered her neck and breasts with wet kisses.

 

“Sometimes, I get to be in charge,” he murmured against her skin.

 

“Yes… but only because I let you,” he pulled back with a playful sneer and she giggled before kissing him again.

\-----

 

“Do you need to take the Portkey with me?” she’d been dreading today, a heavy knot in her chest. Today was Thursday. And they left Friday.

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“Yea. No.”

 

“Why, no?”

 

He rolled his eyes, “because I have a Floo set directly to Malfoy Manor set up and I prefer not to Portkey when I don’t have to. It makes me feel ill.”

 

He stepped away from her and the distance felt significant.

 

“We… We haven’t talked about… this,” she motioned at the air between them as the sun fell a little lower in the sky, “Does it end in London?”

 

He tensed and paused a moment.

 

“I don’t want it to, Granger,” he kissed her forehead, “but it’s complicated. I need to sort some things out? Can you… let me do that?” he met her gaze and she nodded.

  
She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but she knew that in whatever way she could make it work that she wanted Draco Malfoy in her future, as infuriating as he was.

 

\-----

 

Her bags were packed and she stood just outside the city by the tiny teacup next to the giant palm tree waiting for her portkey to be activated. He was with her.

 

“So…” she led, with no intention of finishing her sentence.

 

“So, I’ll owl you. Soon. Just… I have some loose ends to tie up and this damn case never got fully solved. I know it’ll be hard, getting back to reality… just give me a few days?”

 

“Of course,” she smiled at him.

 

The teacup glowed and she reached up on her tiptoes for a last kiss and he quickly moved to kiss her firmly on her forehead, his hand tightened around her upper arm and she felt her heart sink into her belly.

 

“Bye,” she gave him a half smile.

 

“Bye, Granger.”

 

\-----

 

Hermione arrived via Porky in Diagon Alley. Not quite where she was interested in being so she quickly Apparated to outside her new flat. Her furniture had been delivered, thanks to Ron letting them in and everything else was in boxes stacked inside.

 

It was Friday and by Monday she would be leading legislation that would change the lives of Magical beings everywhere. She just had to clear her mind of Holiday Hermione.

 

She had to focus on what was right there, in front of her. Draco was not. They had made no promises, no declarations.

 

But when she thought back on the last two weeks, her heart panged.

 

She had inadvertently fallen in love with Draco. It made her feel sick for all the right and all the wrong reasons.

 

She stressed for days over what she could possibly say to Harry and Ron. They had come to know him from his work with the Aurors, they would understand. Of course they would...eventually.

 

\----

 

She didn’t mention Draco as the next two days passed. She wanted to wait until he had sorted his affairs out, she imagined it wasn’t going to be easy for him either. He was going to be spitting on centuries of tradition… she just had to tell Harry and Ron.

 

She was flipping through her photos from the trip. A handful of images taken of the two of them in various locations around Cartagena. At the beach, in the village, in their rooms. Laughing and scowling and everywhere in between.

 

She must have left the portrait she took of herself when she’d first arrived on her end table, it was missing from the stack.

 

Crooks rubbed against her leg and she reached for the post the owl had dropped by earlier. On top was a letter in familiar scrawl from their time looking over his notes and she smiled to herself.

 

_Hermione,_

 

_We need to talk. Now. Please, owl me your address._

 

_DM_

 

She felt like a rock had hit her gut. The note felt… so incredibly off.

 

She set it aside about to write him back when her eyes fell on a portrait on the front page of the Prophet.

 

Her heart sank to her knees and she felt queasy.

 

“Malfoy and Greengrass Set the Date! The Wedding of the Decade!”

 

On the front was a moving picture of Malfoy kissing Astoria Greengrass's temple and her laughing to herself.

 

Hermione moved for the nearest wastebasket and wretched into it.

 

\-----

 

Hermione had given herself a day of wallowing and now she was ready. Ready to forget Draco Malfoy and make a change in the Wizarding World.

 

She straightened her jacket in the mirror and tucked a hair behind her ear. This was her day.

 

She floo’d to the ministry and walked out of the grate, feeling confident in her stride towards her future. But her future met the chest of Draco Malfoy and she scowled as she realized she had bumped into him.

 

“Get away from me, Malfoy,” she hissed as she took a step around him.

 

“Granger, we’ve really got to talk,” he spoke in hushed tones and looked suspiciously around him with each step.

 

She weaved through a dozen people before she felt his hand on her elbow, “Granger!” he shouted.

 

“Back off!” she hissed and whipped her wrist so that his grip failed.

 

“Granger,” he shouted, “ I need to talk to you.”

 

She turned and without a thought in her mind her hand reached up and slapped him across the cheek. Not noticing the hundreds of eyeballs on them at this very moment.

 

“Talk to your fiance, you fucking asshole,” she spat and made her way to the lifts. She took a deep breath in, held for four, then eight and breathed out. Draco Malfoy was not going to ruin this day.

  



	2. London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am feeling so loved! Thanks for all the reviews and follows so far :) 
> 
> I was going to hold off to post this chapter, but it's pretty short! I think it's definitely the shortest of the story, so I thought it doesn't REALLY count as a chapter and should just get to come up now!

Hermione began her day in the lifts by bracing herself on the elevator wall and taking in a shallow splintered breath. 

 

What in the fuck was he even doing here? Lest, he be so stupid to think she would be late on her first day just to reconcile with him. 

 

Reconcile. She let out a small puff of air. As if that’s what he even wanted. She had been his holiday girl. 

 

It shouldn’t have been so surprising.

 

Purebloods and their mistresses went back as far as Wizards and their wands. But she hadn’t been involved in the decision making process of making her the mistress, he had taken that decision solely on himself. Had he consulted her, the outcome would have been far different. 

 

The lift stopped abruptly, shifting her body forward and making her stomach lurch. The doors opened and standing there, grinning at her like a fool, was Harry Potter. 

 

She shook away the encounter downstairs, her hand still tingling from meeting with Malfoy’s cheek, and smiled brightly at her friend. 

 

“Harry,” she greeted, “I didn’t think you were on this floor?”

 

“I’m not! But I had to see you on your first day,” he beamed and handed here a to go cup of coffee. 

 

Thank Merlin for tiny miracles that he hadn’t been downstairs to greet her, although she had no doubt he would soon hear some gossip from someone or another. 

 

“Ron and I want to take you out lunch on your first day, alright? Kind of a welcome to the Ministry dregs sort of thing,” he shrugged as they walked across the floor, eyes following the great Harry Potter wherever he went 

 

She laughed hollowly, her mind somewhere else, “Sure, that’d be brilliant. I’ll meet you in the Atrium at 11?” 

 

Harry grinned and stopped at a door with a frosted window, Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, Senior Representative of Magical Being Welfare, Hermione Granger. 

 

She looked at it and her worries melted away, she was grinning at her door. She had earned this day. 

 

“I better go say hello to the boss,” she nudged Harry with her elbow, “See you at 11! I’ll send a memo if something changes.”

 

Harry wished her good luck and disappeared the way they had come. 

 

She opened her door and found a completely mediocre office with ugly brown carpets and 3 vinyl chairs that looked a decade old. There was a desk shoved up against the left wall and it smelled slightly of pumpkin. 

 

But she beamed at it. 

 

She walked around her desk and sat down in the squeaky chair and placed her bag on top of the desk. Sitting here, she would make a hundred changes to the infrastructure of Wizarding Society. She wouldn’t do it with an Elder Wand or an army. She would do it with a quill and her voice and her mind. Her most dangerous weapons, she smirked. 

 

The familiar smile threatened to bring Draco Malfoy back to the forefront of her mind, but she tamped him back down to where he belonged. 

 

She took a deep breath and walked back out into the bullpen ready to begin the first day of the rest of her life. 

 

\-----

 

Her morning had flown by. She had spent it meeting different Department Heads and the Associates that she would be working with. She sat in on her first meeting where they discussed an upcoming collaboration with the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary and creating protected lands for a small herd of Unicorn that had been sighted near Wales. 

 

Hermione was buzzing with caffeine and adrenaline and when she finally noticed the time, she sprinted towards the lifts. She almost didn’t want to break for lunch, much more preferring to get started on the research needed to start on these cases. 

 

The lifts arrived with another jolt and she rushed through the gated doors and towards the Floo Network. Her eyes darted around the room and found a shock of red hair, Ronald. She hurried towards them, throwing her bag over her shoulder. 

 

Ron turned and scanned the room, his eyes falling on her and she grinned. As he turned, her heart sank. Next to him was Harry…. And Draco Malfoy. 

 

Bollocks. 

 

“There she is,” Ron grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her quickly. Her eyes were trained on Malfoy though. He set her down and she returned her attention to her friend. 

 

“Ron, how are you! It’s been ages,” she smiled sweetly at him. 

 

“Too long. I can’t wait to hear all about your holiday! You look incredible, ‘Mione. I don’t know what you did in South America, but you need to keep doing it!”

 

She flushed and pursed her lips as Malfoy hid a chuckle behind a cough. 

 

“Malfoy,” she gritted and Ron rolled his eyes. 

 

“Granger,” he smirked. 

 

“Play nice, ‘Mione,” Ron admonished playfully, “You ok if Malfoy joins us for lunch?” 

 

Hermione let out a rush of air, “What? Malfoy at lunch?”

 

Harry laughed, “He’s not as bad as he would have you believe. He’s working with us up in MLE today, he was on his way out so we invited him.”

 

She realized that Harry and Ron probably thought she was being incredibly rude. They had no idea the situation and would probably deck Malfoy on the spot if they did. 

 

“Why don’t you all go along without me? I’ve got a ton of work to do anyway…” she retreated and tucked a curl behind her ear. She met two pairs of confused eyes and one pair of narrowed ones. 

 

“Nice try,” Harry snagged her elbow and dragged her towards the Employee Entrance. 

 

They made small talk as the they rounded the corner to a small cafe with outdoor seating and grabbed the nearest table of four. They ordered with a round little witch with blue eyeshadow and lipstick on her teeth. 

 

“So, tell us about Columbia!” Harry turned to her and smiled, leaning his elbows forward on the table. 

 

She felt a blush spread across her chest and felt Malfoy’s eyes on her. 

 

“It was… it was fine,” she swallowed and took a long drink of water. 

 

“Fine? You spend two weeks in South America and all you can say is fine? What did you do?”

 

She lifted her eyes to Malfoy and he looked pained, a secret hiding behind his silver eyes. 

 

“A whole lot of nothing,” she said with a tight smile to Ron, “It was a nice trip, lots of good food and relaxing. Happy to be back to reality.” 

 

“I can’t get over how great you look. You’re so tan!” 

 

Her eyes glazed over as she remembered splashing in the surf with the man across from her, sitting between his legs as he peppered kisses across her shoulders as she read aloud from a Muggle book of poetry. She shook her head and the memory fell away. 

 

“Thanks, Ron. How’ve you been?”

 

They caught up over lunch and Malfoy stayed quiet, almost like a snake waiting to make his move. The more he sat there as though nothing was wrong, the more infuriated she became. 

 

He met her eyes and she narrowed them into slits. 

 

“Malfoy,” she began quickly, “I hear congratulations are in order. I’ve been so out of touch in Paris. But wow, Astoria Greengrass! She’s beautiful,” Hermione said acidicly. 

 

He paled and his eyes grew wide. 

 

“When is the date, mate? Read about it in the papers yesterday that you’d made it official, congratulations,” Harry slapped a hand on his shoulder but Draco’s eyes didn’t flinch from Hermione. 

 

“It’s complicated,” he answered quickly. 

 

Ron let out a laugh, “I know you aren’t the brightest wizard in London, but dates can’t be THAT complicated.”

 

“Yes, do tell,” Hermione straightened her spine, “Unless you’re still working on those tricky months and what order they go in,” she tipped her nose up in the air and peered down her cheeks at him. An action that she knew aggravated him.  

 

Draco let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s August 12th.” 

 

“Soon!” Harry said with a happy grin. 

 

“Very soon,” Hermione breathed while staring at her lap, the fire dying in her belly, “I’ve just realized, I’ve got to go. Forgot to tell Wendy something at the office.” 

She knew, in an abstract way, that Draco Malfoy was getting married. Part of her still hoped for an explanation… that Skeeter had grabbed a hold of some silly gossip and jumped the gun. 

 

Hearing him say the date aloud... gutted her. 

 

Her chest felt tight. Too tight. Like a balloon that was over inflated and begging for someone to put a tiny pin into so air could leak out. 

 

She reached into her robes and dropped a few coins on the table, not knowing how much it even was and pushed her chair back  without another word. She pushed the gate to the patio open and stomped up the street. 

 

“Hermione!!” Ron called after her, confused.

 

“Excuse me, boys,” Draco stood, closing the button of his suit jacket and dropped some additional money onto the table in front of them. 

 

“MALFOY!” Harry called as he apparted where he stood, the small wire dining table shaking from the swirl of magic.  “What in the bloody hell was that about?” Harry asked looking at Ron.

 

Ron shrugged and took a large bite of his lunch. 

 

\-----

Hermione’s heels slapped against the concrete with a quick  _ tap,tap,tap _ as she tried to put as much distance between her and the boys behind her. 

 

She heard a pop and an arm reached out from the alley by the Employee Entrance and dragged her into it. She would be frightened, but she knew who it was. There were tears already forming at the corner of her eyes and it just took him wrapping her in his arms for them to spring forward. 

 

She wasn’t sure if she was angry or heartbroken or some combination of the two but she beat her tiny fists against his chest and shoved against him so hard that his back hit the brick wall behind him. 

 

“You are an ARSEHOLE! You lying, cheating BASTARD! I hate you! Do you hear me?” 

 

“I told you I needed to explain. I told you things were complicated….” He hissed into the air and she walked further into the alley, the dampness of the stone causing a moldy smell. 

 

“It’s not complicated, Malfoy! Were you or were you not engaged for the last two weeks,” she whipped around and glared at him. 

 

“It’s complicated,” he growled. 

 

“It’s not. Answer me,” she demanded in rage. 

 

“I’ve been engaged since I was 14 years old,” he said through gritted teeth, the lines of his neck protruding. 

 

“What?” she shook her head. 

 

“It’s tradition, Pureblood Betrothal. I told you it’s complicated,” he pushed the hair back from his eyes. 

 

“You’ve dated other people than Astoria Greengrass,” Hermione’s brows furrowed together. He had lost his virginity to Millicent, she knew he dated Pansy and probably countless others. Who would do that if they were engaged. 

 

“Yea, well, I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about my parents choosing a wife for me. I’ve been trying since I was 14 to get out of the fucking contract but it’s old blood magic. I can’t…. And now I’m out of time,” he looked exhausted as he said the words. 

 

“They can’t force you to marry anyone! Just don’t say ‘I do’, don’t show up to the ceremony!” she was heated, not seeing what the issue was. 

 

“You don’t understand, Granger,” he cracked his neck from side to side.

 

“Make me understand!” a sob ripped its way through her chest and she wiped the tears that were falling down her cheeks of their own volition now. 

 

“My inheritance. That’s what’s under control with the blood magic. If I don’t fulfill the contract, I lose my inheritance,” he was ashamed. She could see it on his face. And he should be. 

 

“Money,” she let out an exasperated burst of air, “It’s always money with you!” 

 

“It’s not what you think…” he growled as she tried to stomp past him. 

 

“You remember when you told me to drop my prejudices? I did! I trusted you! You’ve just proved everything I thought about you to be true,” she shook her head, disappointed. 

 

She walked out of the alley and into the drizzling rain. 

 

“Granger! Please!” he grabbed her hand and turned her to face him. 

  
  


Her eyes caught on the witch standing just outside the alley they had been occupying. Her heart sinking as she took in the beauty of Astoria Greengrass. 

 

“Malfoy,” she swallowed tightly, “Your Fiancee is here to see you,” she whipped her hand back as her eyes settled, and she was thankful it was raining, hoping it might hide the tear stains on her freckled cheeks. 

 

Her blonde was more of a golden shade than Malfoy’s white, but Hermione gut wrenched as she imagined their beautiful golden haired children playing on the grounds of Malfoy Manor. 

 

“Hermione Granger, as it were,” Astoria’s voice was authoritative and confident... it didn’t shake the way Hermione’s did. Hermione sucked a breath in through her nose. 

 

“Astoria,” the rain was soaking her and she noticed that Astoria was using an umbrella charm, only the bottom inch or so of her robes were getting wet. 

 

“Are you done here?” Her face was pinched, like she’d smelled something rotten. 

 

“Quite,” Hermione replied in a clipped tone and looked right at Malfoy as she spoke, who was frozen between the two witches, eyes only Hermione, “He’s all yours,” she turned and made her way into the entrance of the the Ministry. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts guys! Sorry, if it wasn't the answer you were looking for from our boy :( Stay tuned!! It will get better {But not before it gets a little worse...}
> 
> BIG, FAT FOREVER THANKS TO SWEET LIL BULLET!


	3. The Last Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!
> 
> I've realized thanks to some wonderful readers that I've been a complete ass and misspelled Colombia. Forgive me. 
> 
> This is one of my favorite chapters and I hope you guys love it as much as I do! 
> 
> Stick with me for a bit... Hermione's life is gonna get rough. She can take it.

_ It had been three days of this weird limbo between them. They had seemingly forgotten anything outside of Cartagena, including what had happened between them as children and what would be waiting for them when they left.  _

 

_ She was laid out on a chaise in a bikini peppered with bright tropical flowers, a book lay out across her chest where she had set it down a few moments prior. Her eyes felt heavy and she had closed them while tipping her face up to meet the sun.  _

 

_ There was so much ignored between them, even more unsaid. All she knew was that she was having fun with Draco Malfoy, a statement she never thought could be true.  _

 

_ A pop of magic and she smiled, knowing that it meant he had come back early. She didn’t open her eyes and instead tried to remain bored by his arrival.  _

 

_ He sat down next to her hips one arm resting on the opposite side of her so he could lean down and plant a kiss on her neck.  _

 

_ She didn’t respond and so he did it again, this time sucking lightly and eliciting a small giggle as she pinched her cheek towards her shoulder, trying to push him out.  _

 

_ “You’re back early,” she mused, hiding a smile.  _

 

_ “Yes,” he sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.  _

 

_ “Is everything ok?” she asked, feeling as though she were missing something. She watched as the tension spread across his shoulders and his brow was heavy over his eyes.  _

 

_ He turned over his shoulder and his silver eyes looked clouded but he smiled at her, “Fine. It’s just…” he seemed about to tell her something and she pulled herself up to sitting, giving him all her attention before he shook the thought away, “Where do you want to get dinner tonight? Or should I order something in?” _

 

_ “Are you sure everything's alright?” she asked genuinely.  _

 

_ He gave a tight smile and leaned over to kiss her forehead, “Let’s go out for awhile. Is that ok?”  _

 

_ She nodded slowly but felt the weight of a secret.  _

 

She tossed around in bed again, kicking the loose sheet that felt like it was trying to suffocate her legs. Her mind had been racing every night when she had laid down for bed. She had been analyzing every memory she could, trying her best to decipher a clue or a hint that would have lead her here. 

 

Had he been about to tell her? Did he feel any remorse? 

 

She flopped over again and groaned. She begged for sleep to find her but it didn’t for a long while. And when it finally did she dreamed of him endlessly, 

 

\-----

  
  


The next five weeks were overwhelming to say the least. 

 

Hermione attempted to drown herself in work but every few days there would be a page in the Prophet about the upcoming nuptials of the future Malfoys or he would be lurking around the Ministry. 

 

He had sent a letter, which she promptly set on fire. 

 

And one night when she was eating with Ron at the Leaky Cauldron he had approached the table. She got up and left, her dinner half eaten. 

 

Harry and Ron had both asked what her issue was with Malfoy and she had just said she didn’t like him. She knew Harry could tell that something else was going on, but he didn’t push it. 

 

When they both got invitations to the wedding, Hermione had cried in the bathroom. Ron asked if she wanted to be his plus one and she had said “absolutely not” and excused herself. Did she expect an invitation? She might have cried harder if she had. 

 

She had no right to feel so… well, so utterly devastated by all of this. It had been a two week holiday fling, they had made no promises, no declarations. But, somehow hearing that he didn’t even love Astoria but was doing it solely for the money, made it all so much worse. 

 

He might love Hermione, he really might. But he didn’t love her more than his inheritance and a fat Greengrass dowry. 

 

She stared at the spoon that was stirring her tea, seeing nothing. 

 

A throat cleared next to her table and she blinked and looked up, only to scowl at the blond wizard in front of her. 

 

“May I please sit?”

 

She let out an exhausted sigh, “Why?”

 

“I just… I have a few more things I need to say. I’ll leave you alone after that…” he pressed his lips into a tight line. 

 

“Just go,” she shoo’d him away lazily with her hand but it was half hearted and he ignored her and sat across from her.

 

“Granger… I know I’ve royally fucked everything up. I should have been more upfront about my betrothal,” Hermione was staring listlessly out the large window of the cafe, the rain pouring.

 

“Your wedding is in two weeks,” she said simply. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

There was a long silence before she spoke again. 

 

“I can’t remember the last time we kissed,” she admitted with a furrowed brow. 

 

“What?” his voice a breath of surprise. 

 

Her eyes were still locked on the rain filled window, “The last time we kissed. I can’t remember it. I… I know it’s silly. I know…” she shook her head and breathed out a huff of indignant air, “but it’s gone. Like it never happened. You never think the last time is going to be the last time. I didn’t think… I didn’t think to remember.” 

 

She swallowed thickly and closed her eyes. 

 

Before her closed lids she could see herself at the portkey, seeing the nervousness in his eyes, the distance. Felt him kiss her on the forehead and then take a step back. He had known. He had lied to her in that moment. 

 

“I knew that my parents were moving forward with the betrothal and trying to work on a date with the Greengrass family when I went to South America for work. When I got back, I tried. Astoria tried… we can’t get out of this.” 

 

Her eyes flashed open in anger. 

 

“...Without losing your inheritance. My, what would happen if the Purebloods of London were resorted to the working class like the rest of us? Who would hold the galas and fatten Gringotts belly up with galleons?” she rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. It was cold and she made a face. 

 

“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” he narrowed his eyes at her, sadness lingering at the corner of his eyes. 

 

“I believe what I’m shown, what there is evidence for. Give me a reason to believe something else,” her red rimmed eyes lifted to meet his for the first time and she realized she was actually asking him for proof.  Begging for a reason to believe in him again. 

 

She took a moment to look at his face, he was tired. He had allowed his stubble to grow in but it was too light for his complexion. He scratched his jawline and cranked his neck. 

 

“Why are you haunting me?” she asked with a thick voice, “I can’t move on with you always around me and even when you’re not, your stupid happy marriage is paraded on the pages of the Prophet.”

 

“I don’t want you to move on, Granger…I want to give you everything,” a flash of hope streaked across her tight chest, “but I can’t give what you want… what you deserve.”

 

And with that the small hope was obliterated with a giant sledgehammer into a million pieces. 

 

“Is that what you came to tell me? Needed to dump me one more time?” She wiped a wayward tear from her freckled cheek as she returned her glance out the window, “Once, twice… it wasn’t enough? Did you want my approval or my congratulations? Why are you doing this to me?” she asked desperately, trying to keep her voice from shaking. 

 

Malfoy was silent, staring at her. 

 

“I just wanted you to know it wasn't my intention to hurt you. I thought maybe I could help you feel better…” 

 

“Help ME feel better?” she saw red frame her vision for an instant, “This was for you. This proves your selfishness. You think that by telling me your excuses that I would feel better? Don’t make me laugh, Malfoy.” 

 

“I just want you to be ok,” he dropped his eyes to her hands and his hand twitched, almost like he wanted to reach out to comfort her before he thought better of it and left them where they were. 

 

“I  _ will _ be ok,” her voice gaining some strength, “I will be better than ok. But I need to you fuck off in order for that to happen.” 

 

He opened his mouth to say something and slammed it shut before he did. 

 

She had come across all strong and sure and full of fight… but she didn’t feel it. She wanted him to fight back, wanted to crawl into his lap and bury her face in his neck while she cried. 

 

But for once, Malfoy listened. 

 

He pushed up on his knees and stood, closing his robes. He turned to leave and stopped, placing his hand on the back of the chair he just vacated. He looked back at her and then bashfully at the floor. 

 

“It was Thursday morning, you were wearing that ratty little Gryffindor T-shirt you look so good in, the one with the hole in the back of the neck. You'd just washed your hair and you smelled like some kind of... flower. I was running late for work. You said you were going to see me later, and you leaned to me, you put your hand on my chest and you kissed me. Soft. It was quick. Kind of like a habit. You know, like we'd do it everyday for the rest of our lives. And you went back to reading your book and I went to work. That was the last time we kissed.”

 

She didn’t look as he walked out but when she heard the small jingle from the bell over the door of her favorite cafe, her chest shattered and she let out a sob. She couldn’t apparate like this, she waited a minute and then rose herself, tears flooding her cheeks. 

 

She walked out into the rain and made it all but 5 steps before her eyes locked on Malfoy in the alley behind the cafe. He was resting his back against the stone wall and appeared as upset as she felt. 

 

“Malfoy?” she called, the rain soaking her again. 

 

His eyes flashed to her and they didn’t speak another word. 

 

They rushed towards each other and his hands grasped at her slick face while hers rested on his chest. They kissed without abandon, knowing it was the last kiss they’d ever have. Taking more and more and with each press of her lips Hermione begged her memory not to forget.  

 

To remember the feel of his stubble on her cheeks. How his hands always had fistfuls of her curls so that he could control the turn of her head. The way his body felt pressed against hers. The way he always tasted of too strong tea and honey and his clothes always smelled of cedar and bergamot. 

 

She kissed him through sobs, breaking away only to let her heartache pour out through her kiss. 

 

He kissed away the tears and raindrops on her cheeks and eyelashes, and slowing his kisses so that each one was searing into her memory. She never wanted this kiss to end and as it did, as he slowed even further she felt her heart breaking all over again. 

 

“I miss you,” she admitted in a whisper. 

 

“I wish I could take this all away,” he pressed his forehead onto hers. 

 

She wanted to say that he could. He could so easily get his own flat and move out of that ostentatious manor. He could build a real life with her. He could pick her and love her and that would be just the beginning. 

 

But she didn’t. 

 

“Goodbye, Malfoy,” she took a step back. 

 

“Bye, Granger,” his mouth curled around her name and he swallowed thickly. 

 

She apparated without another thought and appeared in her living room, alone. She fell to her knees and succumbed to her wails. Her heart had officially been irrevocably shattered. 

 

\-----

 

Hermione was… drunk. Maybe too drunk. 

 

She had big plans this weekend and all of them included being so inebriated that she wouldn’t have to have her mind on where the possible love of her life was and who he was with and what he was doing while there. 

 

She was sitting at the long bar at Hawthorne, a small place just opened that played lively music and plush booths for secret interludes. No secret interludes for her tonight. 

 

Ginny had excused herself to the bathroom and Hermione was doing a very poor job keeping her mind from tomorrow’s events. Ginny had no idea why Hermione had insisted the two of them go out for the night, get dolled up and forget about their worries… but like a dutiful friend, she had happily obliged. 

 

Just then, a large group of young wizards entered the bar, roaring with rapturous laughter and slapping each other on the back. She noticed Harry and Ron and her heart sank. 

 

OH NO. 

 

Ginny appeared at her side, “Oh, look! Harry!” she waved enthusiastically and Harry spotted them both and nudged Ron with his elbow. They said something to the group and headed over towards the girls. 

 

Hermione felt like maybe she might vomit. 

 

“Maybe we should go?” Hermione panicked. 

 

“What?” Ginny laughed and gave her a curious look, “Already?”

 

She started tearing a paper napkin into bits. 

 

The boys arrived and Harry came behind Ginny and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, planting a kiss on her cheekbone as she smiled and turned her face into him. 

 

“How’s the Stag Party boys?” she asked cheerfully. 

 

“It was going well. Groom’s a bit drunk,” Harry nodded towards the group they had come in with and Hermione followed his lead. 

 

At a large VIP table near the dance floor were about 6 or 7 wizards, most Hermione recognized from school, gathered around Draco. His shoulders were slumped and he was staring at the table in front of him as the rest of the wizards threw their heads back in laughter. 

 

She rolled her eyes and returned to her drink, finishing it in one large gulp. 

 

Her drunkenness had begun in depression and was taking a quick turn into anger. 

 

She couldn’t stand looking at him all mopey, like he hadn’t made the damn decision himself. 

 

“Having a good night, ‘Mione?” Ron’s sweet expression caught her off guard. 

 

“Swell, thanks. Want a shot?”

 

“A… a what?” he shook his head at her, confused. 

 

“A shot? Of LIQUOR?” she shouted the last word. 

 

Ron seemed to consider her for a moment and then turned to the bartender and ordered 4 shots. 

 

“Make it 5, please!” Hermione called after him, “And will you send the 5th to the groom over there? Care of: Hermione Granger?”

 

The bartender nodded in understanding and mixed up 4 bright blue shots and topped them with a white frothy chaser. 

 

“What are they?” Harry furrowed his brows as the drinks appeared in front of them. 

 

“Goblet of Fire. Trust me,” the bartender grinned and Harry rolled his eyes. 

 

She watched as a waitress took the single shot over the Stag Party and laid it in front of a confused Draco. She watched as the woman explained and pointed directly at the four of them. 

 

Hermione gave him a cold quirk of the eyebrow and without breaking eye contact, threw her shot back and then turned back towards the bar. 

 

She wouldn’t admit it, but she felt unbelievably badass in this moment. 

 

She felt herself momentarily forget the men in the booth behind her and she laughed and joked with her friends loudly, recanting stories of the golden days. 

 

Ron excused himself and headed towards the loo only to be distracted by a group of witches who recognized him. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at her friend and within a minute or two a new gentleman had replaced him on Hermione’s left. 

 

She looked at him and realized he was vaguely familiar. He was leaning against the bar with his elbow perched a top it and staring at her with expectant eyes. 

 

“Hello?” she greeted awkwardly when he didn’t say anything. 

 

He had thick eyelashes framing his bright blue eyes and a charming smile. 

 

“Hello,” he said back, as if this was all completely casual. 

 

“Can I help you?” she laughed. 

 

“I was wondering if I could buy you a drink?” 

 

“I don’t think I know who you are?”

 

“You don’t remember me?? It’s me! Theo Nott?”

 

“Oh! Wow, you really look different,” she checked him out up and down and he laughed. The Theo Nott she had remembered from Hogwarts had been too tall and too skinny with bad skin. The one before her had grown into his years. She barely recognized her former classmate. 

 

“You make me feel like a piece of meat, Granger,” he grinned and she frowned. Only one other person called her that. Maybe it was a Slytherin thing. 

 

Her heart twisted as she remembered the looming event of tomorrow that was her reason for drinking so heavily tonight. 

 

“I’d love a drink. Have you ever had a Goblet of Fire?” she smirked. 

 

\-----

 

After the shot, Theodore had convinced the girls to come and join their gathering. Hermione had forcefully declined but Ginny had enthusiastically accepted and dragged Hermione towards the booth. 

  
Draco’s eyes were narrowed at the them as they approached and Theo pulled up two chairs for them. He pulled Hermione’s out for her and then sat with his whole attention on her. 

 

“So, tell me, after you get done saving the world… what on earth does Hermione Granger do next?” his arm moved to rest on the back of her chair. 

 

“I work at the ministry,” she smiled back and tucked a curl behind her ear, ever aware of the silver glare of the groom just a few seats away. 

 

“Doing what exactly? Saving kittens?” he leaned in closer to speak more directly in her ear and as he breathed a curl tickled her neck and she giggled. 

 

“Pretty much,” she smirked at him, “I work for Magical Creature rights. It’s been just a couple months, I was in Paris after the war.” 

 

“My parents own a vineyard just outside of Paris! It’s magical, literally and figuratively,” he winked at her and she laughed at his silly joke, “Do you want to dance?” he flicked his chin towards the dance floor. 

 

“Dance?” she grimaced. 

 

“Oh, come on! Music like this isn’t meant to be watched from a distance,” he grinned and stood, holding his hand out to her. 

 

She gasped and her eyes flickered to Draco who was watching the interaction with a tight, clenched jaw. She had heard almost that exact phrase on the night she danced in the arms of the wizard across from her. 

 

She swallowed thickly and put her hand in Theo’s palm, following as he lead her to the dance floor that was playing music that made you forget everything. It was a band with a tempo similar to the Yule Ball and within a few beats, Hermione was laughing and dancing with this stranger like they’d known each other all their lives. 

 

Ginny had dragged Harry and Ron out there as well and soon most of the Stag Party joined on the fringe of the dance floor. 

 

Hermione felt lighter than she had in months and Theo was always close, laughing and making a right fool of himself on the dance floor, leading Hermione to throw her arms around his neck and laugh into him. 

 

“Do you want to get out of here?” he whispered into her ear and she stilled. 

 

She hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t have a plan for it or know what to say. 

 

Did she want to go home with him? That was the real question. 

 

She looked up at his face and knew this for what it was. He was asking her to spend one night with him and she was awfully lonely. She didn’t  _ want _ to go home and think of Draco. Think of how handsome he might look in his dress robes tomorrow. Of what kind of flowers Astoria had picked or certainly of tomorrow night after their guests had thinned and they retreated to their new marital bed. 

 

She reached up onto her tiptoes and planted a firm kiss on his lips, pulling her elbows around his neck so that he was even closer. He in turn, wrapped his long arms around her waist and her back curved into him. 

 

The kiss ended and she felt butterflies flit around her stomach, she smiled and nodded. 

 

“Let me just tell Ginny?” she raced back towards the booth where Ginny and Harry were taking a break from the apparent mosh pit that had broken out. 

 

She grabbed her clutch and grinned at Ginny, “I’m leaving.”

 

“What? You can’t apparate. Wait for me, I’ll come with you, I’ll just run to the loo…” Ginny started to stand but Hermione shook her head. 

 

“You misunderstand,” she laughed, “I’m leaving with someone,” and she bit her lip and her eyes looked for Theo. 

 

She found him explaining something to a stone faced Draco who was standing just off the dance floor. 

 

Draco. 

 

Draco who was staring right at her as Theo explained something, smiling, and slapped Malfoy on the shoulder. 

 

Theo raced across the room and placed his hand on her back, “Ready?”

 

She looked up at him and second guessed herself. 

 

No, Hermione. 

 

Draco Malfoy was getting married tomorrow. 

 

She had every right to find comfort with whoever she damn well pleased. She walked out of the bar on the arm of Theo Nott, completely aware of the silver eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. 

 

\----- 

 

She awoke with a wince and a flash of memories flooded her mind. 

 

Kissing Theo on the dance floor, leaving the bar, kissing in the elevator and again in the hall… and again in the kitchen. Zippers and cotton falling around her ankles and landing on his giant bed in a fit of laughter. 

 

She grimaced. 

 

She had just had a one night stand. 

 

She heard the shower running and looked at the clock on his nightstand, 7:30 am. 

 

She was about to leave the comfort of his bed when the shower turned off and he sauntered out, steam enveloping him. 

 

She blushed, “Good morning,” she said quietly. 

 

“Good Morning, Granger,” he grinned, “I had a lot of fun last night,” he smiled and walked over to her, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, “We should hang out again sometime.” 

 

She wasn’t sure about that but she nodded. 

 

“Do, um, do you happen to know where my dress might have landed?” she blushed an even deeper crimson. 

 

He laughed and reached behind the high back chair in the corner and held it out to her, her shift dangling on his pointer finger. 

 

She grabbed it coyly, feeling the slow creep of deja vu settle over her and clutched the sheet tightly around her chest. 

 

“I don’t want to rush you, you can stay as long as you like,” but he dipped into his walk in closet, “But I’ve got to hurry out. The Floo is open, but like I said, lounge away.” 

 

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll snoop,” she teased, lifting her arms now that he was out of sight and slipping her dress over her head. 

 

“Ah, I would be… but you are far too Gryffindor for that,” he laughed from the adjacent room. 

 

“Where are you off to so early in the morning anyway? I wouldn’t have thought you’d be an early Saturday riser.”

 

“The wedding,” he called. 

 

She gulped. 

 

“Oh, right,” she laughed nervously, “Didn’t realize the ceremony was so early.” she wrung her hands in front of her. 

 

He reappeared in a tshirt and denims, carrying a large garment bag. 

 

“It’s not. Not til later, but duty calls!” He grinned. 

 

“Duty?” she furrowed her brows, a sinking feeling settling into her gut. 

 

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m the best man! Mrs. Malfoy wants us all there bright and early and I know Draco is dreading the whole ordeal, so I want to make sure I’m there for him. 

 

Hermione felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She hadn't known… hadn’t thought… wouldn’t have ever…

 

She closed her eyes and took in a long breath… 1...2...3...4...

 

She felt like vomiting. 

 

“Right,” she let out a puff of air. 

 

“Are you coming tonight? I know I saw your name on the list of invitees.”

 

“No,” she said, her mind far away. She had never received an invitation. 

 

“Ok, well, I better get to. I’ll owl you!” he said enthusiastically and kissed her again, “I really did have a wonderful time with you.” 

 

“You too,” she said with a small smile and moments later she heard the Floo roar to life and die again.

 

She was going to get up and leave. But instead she laid back down and pulled the comforter over her head and groaned. 

 

Nice, hermione. Nice. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you Grey's lovers pick up any of the inspired quotes?? There's a little Mer/Der in there for you!
> 
> Tell me every thought! Hope you guys loved it.
> 
> Thanks as ever to SweetLilBullet and her asskicking beta ways. I love you!


	4. Mistakes

Theo owled. 

 

Of course he did. 

 

He was a perfectly wonderful, charming, good looking and appropriate wizard for her to fall for… so she wasn’t excited about him. She didn’t think NEVER was an appropriate term… but certainly not now. It just wasn’t a good time for her… 

 

She dodged a couple of well meaning owls asking her for another date and they eventually stopped coming.

 

It was official… no one wanted Hermione Granger. 

 

\----

 

Hermione was headed to the Auror office and her mind was with the Dragons currently being crossbred, skinned and caged in Romania. The Sanctuary there was incapable of handling anymore Dragons and the poachers and breeders were taking full advantage. England needed to step up and take drastic responsibility but she wasn’t sure where exactly they could house a Dragon Sanctuary… or secure the funds for one. 

 

She was idly reading through a report on the welfare of the Dragons under their current breeding captivity when she walked straight into someone. 

 

“Oh, forgive me,” she looked up to find Theo Nott standing there in the middle of the office, dashing as ever and grinning at her like a fool, “Theo!” she smiled back at him. 

 

“Well, I’ve rarely had to succumb to stalking a witch to get a second date, but here we are,” he leaned down and gave her a casual kiss on the cheek. 

  
“Oh, stop that! What on earth are you doing here?” she said brightly. 

 

“He’s here with me,” a familiar drawl caused her smile to fade rather quickly and her head whipped around. He was tan again. 

 

She gulped. 

 

“Malfoy,” she greeted flatly, “I didn’t know you worked with Malfoy, Theo,” she smiled again and began walking towards the conference room. 

 

“Ay, someone’s gotta keep the man on his toes. He does the curse breaking, dark magic, bad wizard work… I handle… well, all the boring bits. Isn’t that right?” he looked at Malfoy with a jolly expression. Was he really in Slytherin? 

“Well, I’m heading to a meeting now, but I’ll catch up with you soon,” she smiled and attempted a casual wave at the pair of them. 

 

“You know, I’ve heard that before…” She stopped and turned as Theo spoke to her. She watched as Draco’s jaw clenched and his body tensed just a step behind Theo, “I’m still waiting on the second date,” Theo grinned.  

 

“It wasn’t a date though, was it Nott? I thought you said you just shagged her,” Malfoy said in a monotone voice. 

 

“Malfoy!” Theo paled, “What on earth has gotten into you,” Theo elbowed his friend, “Your mother would slap you for speaking in front of a lady like that,” Nott was genuinely affronted, “I didn’t say that, Granger. I said we never had a proper date,” he made a flat face at Malfoy and continued, “And I would still love to take you on that date… Are you free tonight?” 

 

Hermione glared at Draco who was grinding his teeth flat. 

 

“I am,” she smiled, “Will you owl me where to meet you? I do have to be off,” she tilted her head towards a conference room.

 

“I will definitely owl you,” Theo grinned, “However, we are coming with you. We are on the same case you are,” he gestured towards Conference Room B and Hermione’s heart sank. 

 

“In what world could curses and dragons ever intertwine?” she breathed the ghost of a laugh. 

 

“We’re expanding, Granger,” Malfoy spoke then, “I’m consulting on all sorts of Dark Magic activities that I might have knowledge in. Director Freeman asked me to come in and offer some insight on the Dragon Breeding.” 

 

“Ah. Expanding your empire. More galleons in your pocket,” she glared menacingly at her, “What a perfect set up for you. How was your honeymoon?” Hermione stopped and squared her shoulders to him. 

 

“Brilliant, Granger, thanks for asking,” The flame in his eyes matched hers but Theo remained ignorant and walked on. 

 

“Where’d you end up?”

 

“Colombia, actually. Had such a great time the last time, thought I’d try it again with the wife. How was the night before my wedding?” his eyes darkened and he stepped into her space, “Heard you got thoroughly shagged, by my best man nonetheless. It’s a bold move, Granger, not one I’m sure I’d be willing to undertake. But you really showed me,” he spat, looming over her. 

 

“It’s none of your business who I spend my personal time with,” she turned towards the conference room again but his hand shot out and grabbed her by the elbow. 

 

“It is when it’s my best fucking mate,” he hissed. 

 

“Wrong. Nothing I do or ever do again, is any of your business. And if you ever need clarification? If you ever are wondering if you should get involved? Ask your bloody wife,” her voice wrapped around the last word like a curse and she yanked her arm away from him. 

 

Hermione walked into the conference room muttering something about a  _ ‘bloodygitwithabsolutelynofuckingclue’. _

 

\-----

 

The date with Theo was fine. She laughed and they chatted about work and their time in Hogwarts. He was bright and she learned that he was the brains behind Malfoy’s work. He didn’t have the same expertise in all things Dark Magic but he seemed incredibly knowledgeable in contract law and financing. 

 

She didn’t feel the same chemistry flowing between them as she did with Malfoy and she idly wondered if she ever would. 

 

When he asked if he could see her again, she decided honesty was the best policy. 

 

“I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Theo--”

 

“But…” he interrupted, sensing where this was going. 

 

She gave him a small smile, “But--I’m not ready for any commitments right now. I’m just getting started in my job and I’d like to keep my personal life casual.” 

 

“I can understand that,” he leaned down and kissed her sweetly, letting his grip rest on her elbow. 

 

“If things change or you want to meet for dinner again, you know where to find me. Goodnight.” 

 

She felt disappointed that she didn’t feel more attached to Theo. 

 

She Apparated home, trudged up the stairs and ran a bath. 

 

She dipped into the warm water, leaned her head back against the side and closed her eyes. She felt some strong emotion lurking around her consciousness and it was pressing against the boundaries. 

 

She took a deep breath and felt the water ripple slowly around her. Another deep breath but as the air pushed out of her lungs it shuddered. 

 

She failed to keep that emotion out as it overwhelmed her. 

 

Draco Malfoy was married. It was over and she needed desperately to move on to put this all behind her and get on with her life. Her chest heaved as her tears mixed with the scented bath water. 

 

After a good five minutes of emptying her lungs and soul into the bathtub, she wiped frantically at her cheeks and breathed in deeply, filling her lungs until she thought they would burst. 

 

“Ok. It’s done,” she said into the air, “It’s over.”

 

\-----

 

The next few weeks were still a blur of her getting used to her position at the Ministry and trying to correspond over the Dragon issue with the Romanian Sanctuary. They weren’t very prompt and it irked Hermione to no end. 

 

Everytime a memo was delivered, she would rip it open, only to be fiercely disappointed. 

 

She grabbed the most recent files on it and stomped across the hall to her bosses office. 

 

She rapped her knuckles quickly on the window pane of the open door, “Got a minute?”

 

“Hermione, of course, of course!” Beatrice Waterstone was the most unkempt and kind Department Head in the history of the Ministry. She reminded Hermione so much of Molly Weasley that she often had to stop herself from being too familiar, although she doubted Beatrice would mind. 

 

Beatrice stood and ushered her in, closing the door and pulling a quill from her curly ratted mess of a hairdo. Hermione smiled as she wondered if that might be her someday. 

 

“What can I do for you, dear?” she smiled warmly, signed her name quickly to a piece of parchment and then returned her attention to Hermione. 

 

“It’s this Dragon situation in Romania and well, all over Eastern Europe. I fear it’s getting out of hand and my liaison with the Dragon Sanctuary isn’t upholding his end of the line. It’s frustrating to say the least,” she pursed her lips and handed over a file, “Here, you can see the amount of poachers, eggs and dragon hatchlings that have been apprehended by local MLE in the past two months. It’s out of hand!” Hermione’s voice grew heated. 

 

Beatrice sat back in her chair and looked over the file, stuffing her quill back into her mane and tugging on her earlobe as she read.

 

“These were sent by?”

 

“The Romanian Ministry! I want to be more aggressive,” she said decisively.  

 

“Aggressive?!” Beatrice was shocked by the word, her voice raising an octave or two, “What on earth do you mean, dear?”

 

“Well, I’d like to travel to Romania myself. I want to see what it’s like on the ground and get a feel for what the next step is.”

 

“Mmm, mmhmm, and what do you think the next step is?” Beatrice asked, not looking up from her paperwork. 

 

“I think we need to begin fundraising and campaigning to open a dragon sanctuary here in Great Britain.” 

 

Beatrice looked up at her with a skeptical facade, “Oh, Hermione… that would take…” 

 

“I know. I know what it would take. But I truly believe we’ve got to do something and soon.”

 

Beatrice closed the file gently and laid it on her desk. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her desk and Hermione recognized her face. She was about to let her down gently. 

 

“Beatrice, I’m only asking for a chance. Send me to Romania, at least. From there, I’ll report my findings and we can see if there enough need to move this along. My department can handle fundraising and sponsors, we can find a space and a staff…” she felt the wind leaving her as she realized just how much she needed this win. 

 

It was silent for so long that Hermione dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling she had failed at this too. 

 

“Ok.” 

 

Her heart soared, “Ok??” 

 

A smile played at the corner of Beatrice's lips, “Ok! We hired you for a reason, right? I’ve got to trust my instincts the same way you trust yours. Set it up with Marjory, she’ll make sure you’re scheduled and have per diem for your trip. One week! Report back what you have after that. Ok?”

 

“Thank you! Yes! Of course! THANK YOU!” she gushed and grabbed the file off the desk. She almost hugged the woman but she resisted. She smiled as she heard Beatrice chuckle behind her as she left. 

 

\-----

 

Marjory took complete control of planning the trip for her. She was staying at a B&B in the small village outside the sanctuary for 3 days. She was desperately wanting to visit the adjacent areas and speak to their authorities as well, but she wasn’t going to push it just yet. Romania was an amazing start. 

 

She had called on Harry, Ron and Ginny to celebrate her small victory and they had all agreed to meet for dinner at the Toad and Lily. 

 

It was a nicer place, maybe out of their budgets but they could splurge on big occasions. What else was all that award money good for from their Order of Merlin?

 

Hermione rushed home and put on one of her favorite dresses from Paris. It was bright red with a scallop lace neckline and tulle that jutted out at the waist. She paired it with black heels and a red lip and was ready to go. She apparated to the restaurant and found it was raining… again. Wasn’t it always raining?

 

She ducked quickly into the restuarant and into the back of a one, Draco Malfoy. 

 

Bollocks. What kind of luck was this?

 

“Er, hullo,” she grimaced and when he moved to the side, his beautiful fucking wife, with her perfect hair and long eyelashes and full lips was standing there. Her stupid fucking perfect eyebrow was perched high on her forehead as she appraised Hermione and all of a sudden, Hermione hated her dress. 

 

It was nothing compared to the simple black but somehow immaculate robes of Astoria Greengrass… errr, Malfoy. 

 

Because this beautiful, perhaps part Veela, witch, was Draco Malfoy’s wife. 

 

She sucked in a harsh breath. 

 

“Miss Granger!” the Maitre’d gushed, “Why the rest of your party has already arrived! Can I escort you?” 

 

“Please,” she nodded, “Pardon me, Malfoys. I guess being the Gryffindor Princess has its perks,” she smiled tightly and followed the host past the lobby. 

 

Her heart was pounding wildly and she swallowed a gulp as she walked with her head held high into the dining room. 

 

Her eyes landed on her small group and she smiled. 

 

“Hermione!” they stood to greet her, Ron rushing over to kiss her on the cheek, “Are you going to tell us what we are celebrating?”

 

“Oh gosh, you will probably all think I’m silly,” she blushed, not realizing they were expecting some grand reason, “I’ve just had some travel for a passion project approved! I’m to head to Romania in a week to size up the illegal Dragon trade and possibly open a Sanctuary here in the UK.”

 

She sat as Ron pulled her chair out for her and grinned at her table mates. 

 

“Brilliant!” Harry gushed and she looked as Ginny smiled brightly at her too. 

 

“Thanks! I know it’s not much, maybe not enough to warrant a fancy dinner… but it’s my first big project! I’m over the moon!”

 

“Will you see Charlie?” Ginny asked, placing her napkin idly in her nap. 

 

“I hadn’t thought of it! What is he doing out there now?”

 

“I think mum said he’s working with relocation and acquisition… whatever that means,” Ron shrugged. 

 

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see him. Let your mum know? Maybe she’ll want me to bring him something.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” Ginny mused while perusing the menu. 

 

Hermione bristled as the Malfoys were escorted to a table just a few away from theirs. Malfoy’s eyes kept glancing over to her and try as she might to ignore it, she couldn't. They locked awkward eyes on more than a few occasions and Hermione flushed each time and took a long gulp of wine. 

 

The four of them chatted about work and laughed about memories long past but Hermione kept attention to the blonde couple on her left. She sighed in relief as they stood to leave and she ordered just one more glass of wine. 

 

They laughed until the lights dimmed and Hermione was surprised as they walked to the bar just down the street. ‘Just for a nightcap’, Harry had said with a wink, and they all played along, knowing full well it wasn’t just a nightcap. 

 

The music was lively and reminded her of a tiny cafe in Cartagena where she had fallen for a boy with silver eyes. 

 

Instead she swayed by herself in her pretty red dress and nursed a beer that had been bought for her by someone in their group. 

 

Some Gryffindors found them and she laughed and hugged them all in turn. Catching up with most of them for the first time in years and giggling as Neville Longbottom bought her a shot of something that tasted like peppermint but burned like the devil. 

 

She didn’t remember when Neville got so… well, so hot. He was taller now, much taller than her but he wasn’t lanky. He had filled out in all the right spots and his eyes were fringed by thick lashes that stuck together when he blinked. His smile was so genuine that Hermione blushed whenever it was directed at her and as soon as he placed his hand on her lower back she felt herself melt into him. She felt desperate for his attention and she wasn't sure if it was the alcohol impairing her judgment or the sheer need of wanting to feel something. 

 

She remembered laughing as she pulled Neville’s face towards her. Knowing fully that she was being selfish but needing to do it anyway. He seemed happy to oblige as he wrapped his arms around her waist and in the same way that Harry had said ‘just a night cap’ she told herself ‘just for tonight’.

 

He had asked if she was sure… then again and one final time when they were outside her door. 

 

She had groaned and told him to stop being a Hufflepuff, to which he laughed and kissed her breathlessly as they fell backwards into her flat. She quite enjoyed his kiss and the way his voice said her name into her hair. It kind of shook and she liked that he looked at her like she was beautiful and loved and worthy. 

 

She felt coy but sexy in his presence and they bumbled through a drunken interlude that left her feeling happy for all the right reasons. She had felt empowered and beautiful and like letting loose with someone she felt safe with, it was exactly what she needed. 

 

It wasn’t until it was over and she was laid with her limbs sprawled across him. It wasn’t until he breathed into her hair and said that he had always hoped they would find a way together. It wasn’t until he held her tightly as he drifted off to sleep… that she realized what a monumental and life changing mistake she had just made. Her breath was coming shallow and sharp and she wanted nothing more than to leave… but it was her bed. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE:
> 
> I am fully aware that this part of the story is just awful :( Poor Neville... Poor Hermione... I promise things won't stay so depressing! But unfortunately, H really needs to get to a broken place before she can rebuild it. Things will get better! Stick with me! 
> 
> If you are a fan of Grey's and know the story line I'm following, Neville = George :(


	5. Crashing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I was hoping to update on Weds/Sat but I'm traveling and life is just crazy. I snuck away to get this up! There is a Grey's quote hidden in here and it was the quote that inspired the entire fic!
> 
> Hope you love it!

Neville kissed her a dozen times in the morning and Hermione didn’t stop it. She should have. Merlin. She should have… she felt guilty that her female empowerment and selfish enjoyment was leading to hurting someone who so clearly didn’t deserve it.

 

He left with his sweater adorably slung over his forearm and another kiss. He promised he’d owl her later and Hermione wanted to sink into oblivion. She wanted to shrink until she couldn’t breathe and then let the weight of her bad decisions just crush her.

 

She went to pick up the book on her end table and wrenched her hand back. She needed to punish herself. No reading! Nothing that brought her joy ever!

 

She jumped up and threw a handful of Floo powder into her fireplace and stepped in, still in her pajamas she had hastily thrown on this morning.

 

“Number 12, Grimmauld Place,” she said solemnly.

 

She stepped out, knowing he’d be there.

 

“How was your night?” Harry asked with a clipped tone, not raising his eyes to meet hers.

 

“You should have stopped it…” she tried to reason.

 

“No,” his flashed angrily towards her, “You shouldn't have started it. What on earth were you thinking?”

 

“Shit, I don’t know, Harry,” she sat and curled her legs underneath her and clawed at the sides of her face, “I’ve royally botched everything. He likes me! I didn’t think he’d actually like me!”

 

“So what was your best case scenario here?” Harry was angry, “That Neville was a garbage guy who would sleep with you and not care about the aftermath?! You know him better than that! He deserves better than that!” his voice was rising and she could hear the soft padding of Ginny’s feet down the stairs.

 

In moments, Ginny was curled up next to her  on the sofa, her head resting on the back.

“It’s ok,” she whispered.

 

“Ginny!” Harry chided angrily, “IT’S NOT OKAY!” Harry yelled.

 

Harry took a sobering breath and messed his hair up. He plopped down in the overstuffed armchair.

 

The feminist in her hated feeling bad for enjoying a night with a man… the Hermione in her felt horrible for using her friend to feel better about herself.

 

“What do I do, Harry?”

 

“I don’t know what you fucking do...It’s Neville, Hermione! He’s had a crush on you, since, I don’t know, first year!”

 

Hermione groaned, “Stop being so dramatic!”

 

“It’s kind of true, Hermione… Everyone knows Nevilles sweet on you…” she said matter of factly, her long legs stretching out in front of her.

 

“Well, I DIDN’T BLOODY KNOW THAT!!”  Hermione buried her face in her hands, “If I had, I would never have slept with him!”

 

“Why are you sleeping with him at all?” Harry questioned with narrowed eyes, “I’m not stupid… I know something's been going on the last few months.”

 

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, “I’m handling it.”

 

“By sleeping around?” he asked softly, “I don’t mean to insult you, Hermione. But this isn’t you. You don’t have casual relationships and it seems like you are pushing some kind of imaginary boundary that we can’t see. You can tell us,” with his words Ginny gave her a squeeze around her shoulders and Hermione wiped away a tear.

 

She took a deep breath in and when she exhaled she started the story from the beginning.

 

\----

 

“I’ll kill him,” Harry had begun pacing somewhere during her retelling of Cartagena and hadn’t stopped yet.

 

“It’s fine,” she shook her head.

 

“You actually… fell for him? For Malfoy?” Ginny asked softly.

 

Hermione didn’t answer. She felt that was an answer in and of itself.

 

“Obviously, we ended it immediately but I can’t help but feel… heartbroken?” she said the last word like it the confession stole every last bit of strength from her.

 

“Hermione, he’s married,” Harry reiterated.

 

“I get that!” she snapped, “You think I don’t? I’m trying my best to put the pieces of myself back together, because yes, I stupidly fell in love with an engaged man. I’m not happy about it, but I didn’t have all the information when it happened. I am allowed to think he’s a stupid sonofabitch and still be sad he won’t ever be _my_ stupid sonofabitch.”

 

“I should have known…” Harry was almost speaking to himself at this point.

 

“What are you gonna do?” Ginny looked at her friend thoughtfully.

 

“Apologize to Neville, swear off men and sex and throw myself into my work. I have Crooks… and you guys… what else do I need?”

 

“Fuck, that’s like the starter kit of a Crazy Cat Lady…” Harry blanched.

 

“Shut it, Potter,” she glared at him.

 

\-----

 

That evening there was a lengthy spread that covered their time at Toad and Lily, their walk to the bar, there were several images of Hermione clinging to Neville and them getting a ride on the Knight Bus home and the coup de gras was Neville bouncing down her steps in the morning and towards the apparition point, grinning like he’d won the lottery.

 

Fucking hell.

 

She owled an angry letter to the author about their lack of journalism prowess if her dinner plans were the cause for front page news.

 

She crumpled the Evening Prophet walked it over to her sink and threw it in the large metal basin. She brought out her wand and lit it on fire violently.

 

She groaned as she realized her boss would probably see this article… Her trifling ways were going to have a farther reach than she had ever intended.

 

She wanted so badly to have someone to blame. Harry for not stepping in, Harry for making her famous in the first place, the Journalist or the Prophet in general.

 

It was misplaced. She knew that there was a hole in her heart that she was desperately trying to fix by obtaining the attention of men. Maybe she had just felt so rejected that her ego needed a boost… but at what cost? If the cost was hurting Neville, then it was too high.

 

She needed another outlet. Another way of coping… perhaps she could take up knitting again.

 

\-----

 

She found herself in the longest meeting of her life with a board of highly intelligent and pretentious looking men. Each one had no doubt seen the prophet and she could tell by  the stupid looks on their faces when she spoke. They hadn’t seen her naked but she imagined this is what it felt like. She felt shameful.

 

“In conclusion, the Dragon situation is something we can no longer overlook. I am hoping after my visit there next week I will be able to show you the dire need these dragons have for rehabilitation. I am hoping to propose a spot in this mountain range,” she began while using her wand to point at a hilly area in the northwest.

 

“That could never work,” Malfoy’s steely voice cut through the air from the doorway.

 

Her eyes narrowed at his unexpected appearance, “Ok, well there are several spots we are willing to visit and see what would work best. The bottom line is that another sanctuary in Europe is necessary. Poachers and--”

 

“I believe there are several other jurisdictions that could easily and more efficiently house a dragon population, Miss Granger,” Malfoy pushed his body off the door frame and she sucked in her bottom lip and bit down on it hard.

 

“What, exactly, can I help you with, Mister Malfoy?” Hermione asked bluntly, feeling the control of her meeting slipping as the men started looking confusedly at each other.

 

She looked at him and a vision of his smiling face as he plunged them into the ocean and came up laughing flashed brilliantly before her eyes.

 

She shook her head to clear it.

 

“I’m hired to be here, Miss Granger,” he smiled at her condescendly.

 

“Hired?” her breath left her in an angry huff.

 

“Yes, Mrs. Waterstone asked me if I might offer my consulting expertise on your proposal,” he smiled condescendingly.

 

“If I may ask, on what authority? I thought your… expertise… was on all matters of the Dark Arts,” she huffed, glancing around the room nervously.

 

“My family has a long history with Dragons. We are one of the main benefactors for the Romanian Sanctuary, actually. My mother sits on the board.”

 

“Then you are well aware of the need for another Sanctuary!”

 

The other men in the meeting were getting increasingly uncomfortable.

 

“Why don’t we let you two have it out, come back to us when you’re more prepared,” the wizard directly to her left said and they all shuffled their papers and rose from their seats.

 

“Gentlemen, I assure you I am more than sufficiently prepared,” she was all twitchy and her eyes darted quickly.

 

They filed out and left Malfoy standing near the doorway.

 

“Why did you just do that!” she shouted.

 

He rolled his eyes and closed the door quietly, moving quickly into the room.

 

“I am merely offering my vantage point on the situation. Which I’m being paid to do,” he said with a sneer.

 

“You made me look like I was incompetent and I won’t stand for that in _my_ meeting,” she rounded the table and was now only a few feet from him.

 

“Oh, please. You’re just wrong and that makes you feel incompetent. Scotland is a rubbish place for a dragon sanctuary. The highlands are too populated for Dragons to roam freely. Maybe Russia…”  he glanced at the map.

 

Hermione felt herself filling with rage.

 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? I don’t want you here and I don’t want to see you,” she said as bluntly as she could.

 

He flinched.

 

“What? Don’t want me to bear witness to you hooking up with any more former classmates?” he said with a tight jaw, “I wouldn’t worry about that. The Prophet seems to catch all your nightly activities so I might read about you slagging around over my morning tea.”

 

“Excuse me,” she breathed and it was like an accusation, “Don’t speak to me like that.”

 

She marched to the front of the room and gathered her files. She tried to stomp past him but his arm shot out and grabbed her by the crook of her elbow.

 

“What, gonna hit up Weasley next? I know you both like to sleep around,” an evil edge to his voice and she hated the way his mouth twisted around the words.

 

She yanked her arm from his grasp, “You don't get to call me a whore,” her voice threatening to betray her as it started to shake, “When we were together, I thought I had found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I was done! All the boys and all the bars and all the obvious trust issues, who cares? I was done,” her voice betrayed her and cracked, “You left me. You chose Astoria. I'm all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke. You don't get to call me a whore,” her glare was enough to make him catch his breath.

 

He sucked in a harsh gulp of air and broke his eye contact with her as he studied the carpet of the Ministry conference room.

 

“This thing with us is finished. It's over."

 

“Finally,” she spat and turned to march out.

 

\-----

 

The entire ordeal had been thick with unnamed emotions and while she had kept the tears from spilling over in the office, they stuck in her throat and she rushed to her office so she could let it out.

 

When she rounded the corner to see Neville sitting in the chair outside her desk with a shy smile she wanted to throw up. It was too much, it was brimming over.

 

“Neville,” she breathed.

 

“Hermione,” he smiled and it didn’t reach his eyes. It felt like her chest was shattering, “Do you have a minute?”

 

She felt the left side of her face wince and she nodded, leading the way into her office. She knew her office was small… but had it always felt THIS small? It felt claustrophobic with Neville in there.

 

“I spoke to Harry,” Neville’s face crumpled as he looked at his hands.

 

“Wh-what did he say?!” she panicked.

 

“It’s ok, Hermione. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. I got the feeling that the other night might not have meant as much to you as it did to me,” he confessed, “I just-- I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me, is all. I get that you don’t like me--”

 

“Neville, let me explain--”

 

“Please, don’t,” he lifted his palm to her and his eyes shot up, “The other night was a childhood fantasy come to life,” he laughed humorlessly, “Don’t ruin it for me.”

 

“I would never, ever, do anything to intentionally hurt someone, Neville. Least of all you. I hope you know that…” it wasn’t enough. She needed to say so much more but she wasn’t sure what would make him feel better.

 

“I know that, Hermione. I would never have thought you were so utterly wonderful if you were like that.”

 

A sledgehammer to her gut.

 

“I think you’re wonderful too,” she choked on the words, “I’m… I’m sorry. The other night was selfish of me, I didn’t consider… I only wanted…”

 

“Well hey!” he cheered, “It can’t be all that bad to be me if I’m the guy Hermione Granger chooses to get over someone else, right?” he grinned a sly smile and stood to leave, “I hope he knows how lucky he was and what a complete git he is for letting you go,” he tapped his closed fist on the door frame and left.

 

She sucked in a gulp of air, used her wand to shut the door and silence the room before letting out a guttural scream that had been building in her chest. She grabbed her tea cup and with another feral yell threw it at the ground, watching it shatter.

 

She took a seat and let herself catch her breath. She closed her eyes and took serious stock of her life.

 

No more men. Not a single one.

 

She vowed to herself that this was the end of the line.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks SweetLilBullet for all the beta love!
> 
> Next chapter we meet Charlie Weasley :D Love reading all your comments!!


	6. Romania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note:
> 
> Check out my Tumblr (LadyKenz347) for some chapter art :)
> 
> Ready to meet Charlie?

The weather in Romania was thick… that was the best way to describe it. Like a hot, wet wool blanket draped across your shoulders. 

 

She breathed it in and felt the sweat forming at the nape of her neck. 

 

“Hermione!” a deep voice boomed and she turned to find a strapping man approaching her. 

 

He had wide shoulders that were thick with defined muscle and his torso resembled an upside down triangle leading into a thin waist. He was wearing a white t-shirt with three buttons in the front so that the side kind of flopped open and the sleeves were tight around his massive arms. But the most surprising aspect of the man approaching her was the shock of red hair on his head, long and shaggy with loose waves. 

 

“Ch...Charlie? Charlie Weasley?” her eyes wide and she gulped as he grinned at her. 

 

“No way, that’s you, Hermione!” he wrapped his arms around her while hers just hung lifelessly at her sides, afraid to touch him and lest she be accused of assaulting the poor man, “You were a kid last time I saw you! Look at you now!” 

 

He held her out at arms length as he looked at her and she flushed, remembering her bushy hair and giant teeth, the way her robes swallowed her whole as a child. 

 

He had been present during the final battle and of course, at Fred’s funeral. But he had disappeared quickly following the ceremony, only pausing to give Molly a long, lingering hug and shaking hands with his father. Hermione remembered seeing him, but the fog of war had not been lifted long enough to process the second eldest Weasley’s brief visit. 

 

She certainly didn’t remember Charlie Weasley being such a… A MAN. His eyes were the same sparkling blue as Ron but his jaw was chiseled and square. 

 

“How are you?” she asked with an awkward smile, “Your mom sent this,” she handed over a package wrapped in simple brown paper. 

 

“A jumper, I’m sure,” he rolled his eyes, “Because who  _ wouldn’t _ want a jumper in this heat,” he grinned at her and gestured that she might follow him.

 

They walked a short ways from the portkey and she felt a wall of magic give way as they strolled through a ward. 

 

Her breath left her as she took in the scene before her. The grass was emerald green and thick like a plush carpet beneath her, there were rolling fields heavily covered with coniferous trees. She could hear the incredible cry of a dragon screeching and over her, a giant winged beast that she thought she could recognize as the Welsh Green flew lazily above her. 

 

Directly before her was a giant arch with a thick cobblestone wall sprawling as far as she could see. Inside were habitats enclosed by a shorter stone wall and each habitat was magically spelled to control the temperature and weather appropriately. 

 

It was acres upon acres upon acres of lush beautiful countryside and it left her breathless to see the sheer expanse of it. 

 

Charlie kept his eyes on her as she took it in. 

 

“Can you see why it’s so hard for me to want to come back to London?” he nudged her with his elbow playfully. 

 

“Absolutely,” she grinned, “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. You’ve done a wonderful job.” 

 

Her eyes drifted up to an inscription above the archway: _Dragostea este un sanctuar, un refugiu sigur și un loc de odihnă._

 

He noticed and before she could ask, he answered. 

 

“Love is sanctuary, a safe haven and place to rest.”

 

“That’s beautiful,” she said earnestly, she took a sobering breath, “Can you point me towards Director Evans? I’m supposed to have a tour before heading to the B&B in the village.”

 

“That would be me! Not Director Evans, of course… but I’m your official escort while you’re in Romania. You were almost assigned to Davidson, but I’d never do that to you. He’s the most droll man I’ve ever been forced to spend time with… and I grew up with Percy,” he winked and she giggled, her hand flying up to her mouth to cover it, feeling guilty. 

 

“Come on,” he twitched his head towards the arch and she followed, her heart pounding. 

 

Merlin, she was in trouble. 

 

\-----

 

He walked her through the main office, touching on nothing for long but introducing her to a handful of Caretakers and other office staff. 

 

But as they stepped out the back door, she was left awestruck again. 

 

“Ready to meet my girl?” 

 

Of course, he had a girlfriend. There was no way a man looked like that and saved dragons and was single. 

 

“Oh, of course! Does she work here as well?”

 

His lips turned up into a smile and they approached the first habitat. The area didn’t seem all too different from the natural landscape. Thick green grass and a giant hill leading to a massive cave tucked in it’s belly. 

 

“Annie!” Charlie yelled, bringing his cupped hand up to his mouth, “Annie! There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

 

Nothing happened but she could feel another presence as the earth started to move from under them. She noticed the pair of luminescent pearly eyes first, emerging slowly from the cave and their gaze falling on Hermione. 

 

She swallowed thickly and moved a step closer to Charlie, who gazed down at her with a playful half smile. 

 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, “She’s my sweetheart.”

 

She felt each step the giant dragon took and as more and more of her became known to Hermione, her jaw dropped at the size of the monstrous beast. 

 

“She’s beautiful,” she gasped, taking a step in front of Charlie, “What kind of Dragon is she?”

 

“She’s an Antipodean Opaleye, very rare.” 

 

Annie trudged slowly up to the pair of them and layed down in front of them, just like Crookshanks. Hermione grinned as she inspected the Dragon up close. 

 

Her scales were shimmering like a pearl, at first glance she looked white but on closer inspection she could see the multifaceted color spectrum of her scales. Her eyes didn’t have pupils which would seem unnerving, but it wasn’t. The species was appropriately named because they looked like giant opal gemstones. 

 

“Can I --” Hermione held her hand up, asking permission to touch her.

 

“Oh, yes,” Charlie approached Annie and let his hands graze over her scales. 

 

Hermione followed suit but far more tentatively. When her fingers touched the dragon scales for the first time she was shocked. She imagined they would feel tough like armor but they were soft and danced under her touch like calm waters. Her hands ran up and down and Annie’s face turned to her, her mirrored eyes falling on Hermione and slowly blinking before resting her head next to Charlie. 

 

“Why’s she here?” Hermione asked, her eyes never leaving the beautiful dragon. 

 

“Poachers…” Charlie explained, “They were keeping her caged in Ukraine, stealing her scales. I guess her skin is rather fashionable in Asia.” 

  
He shook his head as he rounded her giant head and laid his hands on the space between her eyes. 

 

“She’s been here for 4 years, longer than most.  Our goal is to offer sanctuary and rehabilitation and then reintroduce them into the wild. Annie’s never known the wild though, so we aim to keep her comfortable in captivity.”

 

“What do you mean, never known the wild?” 

 

“She was hatched in captivity. She didn’t even spread her wings as a grown adult until she came here. Fucking bastards…” he cursed under his breath before remembering his company, “Sorry,” he smiled, chagrined. 

 

“They  _ are _ fucking bastards,” she smiled back at him, “Can she fly?” 

 

Annie’s eyes popped open at the word and she sat up eagerly, the movement startled Hermione. 

 

Charlie laughed, “Oh, she can fly…” he waved his wand and a harness appeared on her neck. Hermione’s eyes snagged on a large, shiny scar on his left arm. Annie dipped her head low and waited, “All aboard!” Charlie beamed. 

 

Hermione started retreating, “Oh, no… no no no. I was just asking, haha,” she laughed nervously, “I don’t fly”

 

“I know. You don’t have wings… BUT Annie does! And she wants to show you,” Charlie grabbed her hand and led her back towards the Dragon. 

 

“I’m… well I’m quite scared of heights,” she confessed quickly. 

 

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe!” he climbed up effortlessly and held his hand out. 

 

She really didn’t want to go. Like, she REALLY didn’t want to. But she held her hand out anyway… she sucked in a deep breath and took his hand, which felt like rough leather, and hoisted herself up and settled in between his legs. 

 

Her heart was pounding for a million different reasons as his hands worked quickly to secure the seat belt around them. It was a similar saddle to the one she had used when she rode a pony as a child with a place for her hands to rest between her legs. 

 

Charlie brought out his wand to lift what Hermione guessed was a magical entrapment spell and then rested his hands near hers. 

 

Merlin,  _ BREATHE HERMIONE! _

 

“Annie, SUS!” he commanded in Romanian and her wings expanded out larger than she thought possible. They flapped once, twice, three times and Annie kicked off the ground with such force that Hermione let out an adrenaline filled scream as Charlie laughed into her hair. 

 

She pressed back into him out of sheer terror and he wrapped his long arms around her as Annie tore through the sky and was showing off her impressive flying skills. She dove in and out of clouds and took sharp turns that left Hermione panting.  

 

By the end she was grinning like a fool with wind caught in her hair and laughter in her lungs. 

 

She hopped down and Annie brought her long face near Hermione’s and closed her eyes. Hermione hands came up to rest on her snout and she felt bold enough to press her forehead there. 

 

When she released Annie she looked to see Charlie grinning at them, his large arms crossed proudly. 

 

“Thank you, Annie,” Hermione smiled at her new friend, “I’ve never enjoyed flying this much. You’re truly magnificent.” 

 

Hermione and Charlie turned to walk out of the habitat and Charlie shouted over his shoulder, “Don’t let that get to your head, Annie!” 

 

Annie huffed and stood tall and Hermione stopped again to take her in, in all of her glory. Annie sat back on her hind legs and reached her wingspan as far as it would go before tipping her head up to the sky and breathing out 50 yards of scarlet red flames into the atmosphere. 

 

Hermione was so startled by the act and the vibrancy of the flame that she fell backwards into Charlie who’s hands helped to steady her. 

 

“Show off!” Charlie laughed loudly. 

 

Annie settled back down and turned to walk back towards her cave, pausing at the pool of sparkling blue water first. It was then that Hermione noticed a large jagged scar down half of her body and she felt horrified for what this poor Dragon had seen in her young life.

 

They walked out of the habitat and could hear rumblings and screeching from every habitat. 

 

“What’s going on?” she looked up at him. 

 

“Now they all want to show off,” his eyes sparkled at her and she laughed.

 

“They don’t expect me to have a dozen Dragon rides, do they?”

 

“Of course not,” he shook his head playfully, “there’s 22 Dragons residing here currently, but I’d say only about 15 are able to fly…” 

 

She bit her cheek as they walked to the next habitat. 

 

\-----

 

After a long walk through the sanctuary, Hermione felt rejuvenated by her mission to help as many Dragons as she could. She had seen just under two dozen Dragons who each had a tragically beautiful back story to accompany them. 

 

She liked to watch Charlie as he talked about them. His eyes sparkled and it reminded her eerily of the way Ron looked when he talked about Quidditch. 

 

It was unnerving, the similarities and differences between Charlie and Ron. It was like seeing an alternate reality of her best friend. 

 

At the end of the tour, he had suggested a small place to eat in town and while she had moved to decline, her stomach roared in agreement. 

 

They settled into the small pub and Charlie assisted her in ordering. She ordered a water, knowing full well that her bad decisions and alcohol seemed to make appearances as a team. 

 

“So, how has it been going, Hermione?” Charlie asked, his face bright and curious. 

 

It was odd how quickly she lied. 

 

“Brilliant! Work is new but incredible and it’s lovely getting to spend time with the boys and Ginny again.” 

 

“Did you enjoy Paris?” 

 

“I did,” she smiled fondly as memories flashed before her eyes, “After everything, I couldn’t stay in London. Too much had happened and too many eyes were on me. I had to get out and breathe for awhile on my own. So much of me had been wrapped up in Harry and the Horcruxes for so long…” she trailed off, perhaps revealing too much. 

 

“I know that feeling…” he made a face, “I don’t know if my mum will ever forgive me for being so absent during the War. But, the rest of the world doesn’t stop. They needed me here,” his voice thick with guilt, almost like he was trying to convince himself all over again, “Then after… after Fred, I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t see George without him. I couldn’t see my mom so haunted and my dad…” he shook his head and let out a hollow laugh, “It was too hard.” 

 

He paused for a long moment but Hermione didn’t speak again, feeling a confession still in the air. 

 

“There was someone, a witch here in Romania. She came back with me for the battle, and she, uh, she didn’t make it.” 

 

Hermione gasped, “What? I didn’t realize that… How could I not have known?”

 

“I hadn’t told anyone about her, maybe offhandedly to mum once or twice. There were such bigger things going on. We were engaged, actually… but I never mentioned it.” 

 

“You didn’t tell anyone that she died? That she even existed?”

 

Charlie took a deep breath and rubbed at the back of his neck, like a knot had formed there and he was desperately trying to rid himself of it. 

 

“I didn’t know how. Everyone’s grief was so heavy and you all had been fighting for so long. You all lost so much. I didn’t know how to join in on that. It was easier to keep it to myself. I brought her home, back to Romania.”

 

“That’s why you didn’t stay?” realization dawning on her. 

 

Hermione remembered the days after Fred had passed, there had been so much loss so quickly, that it almost felt surreal. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. It wasn’t until she saw George kneeling next to Fred’s open casket that she allowed herself to grieve. She didn’t just mourn Fred and the friend she had come to know and love for the past 7 years, but for her second family. The only family she had now. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said quietly. 

 

“Thanks. Me too,” Charlie smiled tightly, “But, anyway…” he shook his head and they moved to lighter topics, to Dragons and Romania and Paris. She kept her own ghosts at bay for the night but her heart pained for Charlie and all this pain the world didn’t know he had. 

 

\-----

 

For the next two days, Hermione studied everything she could about the Dragons and spent as much time as she could shadowing Charlie in the care of them. She explained that once the financing and clerical work was underway for another Sanctuary, she would have a team come out to learn how to actually care for the Dragons. 

 

She also spent an insane amount of time in the office, researching where the poaching was reportedly taking place, different cartels who were suspected, black markets and what made each dragon valuable for to these thugs. 

 

Her and Charlie were working closely together and she had taken half of his office over, magically pinning maps and notes to his walls. They spent an inordinate amount of time theorizing about the new sanctuary and she had laughed as she told him that there was no way Molly was going to let him stay in Romania if there was a sanctuary opening in England. 

 

Currently, she sat with her legs slung over the armchair in his office. Having kicked her shoes off, she dangled her toes back and forth and she pierced a piece of chicken with her fork from a takeout container from the pub in town. 

 

“So, where are we planning on heading?”

 

“I’ve spoken to the portkey office and set them up for tomorrow and Friday. Then you can portkey from Bucharest to London on Saturday. You ok with roughing it a bit?” Charlie smiled playfully up at her with an arched brow. 

 

“I lived in a tent for months with Ron and Harry… you can’t be worse than them,” she rolled her eyes. 

 

She watched as a tension rolled across his massive shoulders and she gave him a curious stare. 

 

“You know, Ron never quite told me… he fancied you, didn’t he? Did you date?” He kept his eyes on his plate and pushed the mashed potatoes around with his fork. 

 

She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to hide her smile. 

 

“Not officially. Never amounted to anything, too much history, I think. Then I left for Paris and your brother began shagging anything that moved,” she giggled. 

 

“He’s a git,” Charlie wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair. Hermione averted her eyes quickly, else they might roam too freely over him. 

 

“What about you? Anyone in Romania these past two years that has caught your eye?” she was treading carefully. 

 

“You’d be correct there, but I’ve been alright about it. I dated a Muggle last year but it was too difficult. I wasn’t prepared to let her know about the wizarding world until I knew it was something serious.”

 

“It didn’t get serious, then?” she asked innocently. 

 

“Well, it’s difficult to get to that point when I can’t tell her anything but lies about my work and family. So, it fizzled out after a few months. And other than that, nothing for old Charlie. It’s not everyday a beautiful witch with a passion for saving dragons waltzes in to my life,” he grinned at her with hands cradling the back of his head as he leaned back in his chair casually, “I do believe the tides of luck are changing.” 

 

She felt an instant blush color her cheeks and she waved her hand, “Oh hush,” she smiled into her salad but felt immediately uncomfortable. She needed to backtrack this conversation into more neutral territory. It was dangerously close to flirting. 

 

“Honestly! I had to fight Davidson to be your guide,” he laughed and stood. He rounded his desk and leaned his backside against it right in front of her, folding his arms. 

 

“You’re just flattering me,” she shook her head, hating receiving compliments.

 

“Do I strike you as a liar?” He arched a brow. 

 

“Of course not!” 

 

“Then, I must be telling you the truth,” he shrugged, “We should head back to the village. It’s getting late and the portkey activates at 6 in the morning. We will be going to a village just on the border of Ukraine,” he pointed to a map that was tacked on the wall.”

 

“Is this near the suspected smuggling point?” She stood and came close to the map so that her nose was almost touching. 

 

“Yes. We will be camping just here,” he didn’t touch her, but he was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him chest as he stood right behind her and he pointed to their would be camp. 

 

She turned her face slightly and he was close enough that she could rest her forehead on his chest. 

 

Her eyes lifted to his and he was staring down at her with a hungry look in his eyes. His lips were parted and his chest filling and emptying slowly. The buttons of his shirt were undone and she could see his short chest hair coming through, just as red as the hair on his head. 

 

Her eyes roamed the veins of neck and the square outline of his jaw. He hadn’t shaved since she’d been here and there was thick stubble peppering his cheeks and neck. She swallowed slowly and took a rapid step back. 

 

“Charlie, I—“ she didn’t even know what she planned to say but her gaze lifted and found his eyes on her lips. 

 

She was like an addict. Like she could only forget her heartache if she was chasing some other wizard and Neville’s dejected face flashed across her vision. 

 

This was bad. 

 

This was beyond bad. 

  
  


What was she doing? She promised herself no more and here she was flirting with the definition of a bad decision. 

 

She rubbed aggressively at her face and slapped it once for good measure. 

 

“I’ve got to go, ok?” 

 

“Go?” he rushed, confused by her quick shift in nature. 

 

“Yes, I’ll- I’ll see you at the Portkey in the morning. Ok?”

 

“Hermione, are you--”

 

“I’ve got to go,” she said with finality and scooped up her belongings messily in her arms and rushed out of his office and out the back door where she could apparate. 

 

She arrived in her room at the Bed and Breakfast, arms full of paperwork and heart pounding. 

  
Charlie Weasley had thought about kissing her. 

 

She groaned, not believing that she had gotten herself into another mess with another man. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Whatcha think of Mister Charlie Weasley?
> 
> I've had some reviews about being curious if this even a Dramione... but truly, it is! Consider it a slow burn my friends and it's gonna be a bit of a messy triangle situation, but it'll get there. I promise!
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Next chapter: Romania continues!


	7. Scary and Damaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE:
> 
> Well, guys. Florence is on her way! We are well stocked and prepared to hold out while the storm passes but I wanted to make sure I got an update out before we are under water!
> 
> Hope you enjoy the last bit of Romania! As always, check out my Tumblr (LadyKenz347) for my fan casts and chapter images!

The mountains near the Ukranian border were humid and stifling. They sat outside their tent leaning over a table littered with maps and notes. Hermione had her tied up at the crown of her head, her curls swelling and frizzing madly. 

 

She fanned herself with her hand and wiped the sweat from the back of her neck with the other. 

 

The cooling charm was failing miserably in this heat and she wanted to whine much more than she was, but didn’t want to be annoying. 

 

Charlie didn’t seem that affected by the heat and she watched a tear of sweat disappear into his chest hear. His linen shirt was practically see through and it clung to his chest where the sweat kissed it. 

 

Have mercy. 

 

“So this evening, we will head up to the smuggling point. I’m interested to see exactly how they are retrieving these giant beasts.” 

 

They hadn’t discussed the awkwardness of the night before. She had arrived, bags in hand, at the Portkey and after arriving had set out to make camp. 

 

“Do we have any authority to claim the dragons?” Hermione looked up at him. 

 

He made a face. 

 

“No, but if you think I’m letting them across the border with anything other than an asskicking, you’d be mistaken,” he winked at her and she was struck by how charming he effortless was.   

 

Danger, Hermione. Danger. 

 

“It’s too bloody hot. My cooling charm can’t keep up, I’d have better luck dunking my head in the drinking water,” she groaned. 

 

“That’s not a bad idea!” He cheered immediately and started whipping his head around frantically. 

 

He grabbed a map that had been hiding behind some other papers, “Behind that ridge is a lake, let’s go!”

 

“What?! Charlie, I was just grumbling,” she explained. 

 

“Yea, but you’re not wrong. It’s too bloody hot. We are as prepared for tonight as we can be and its hours til the sun goes down. Let’s go cool off,” he grabbed her hand enthusiastically and was grinning like a complete fool. 

 

In a swirl of magic they disapparated to the  ridge and at their feet was a giant blue lake. It was maybe a 15 foot drop from where they stood and Hermione felt herself get panicky at the height. 

 

“I haven’t a suit!” She exclaimed, trying to think of any earthly reason she couldn’t do this. 

 

“Me either,” he winked and effortlessly lifted his sweat soaked shirt from his body. 

 

Merlin. 

 

Hermione never thought she was very attracted to muscular men, she preferred a leaner body type. But, here, now, she knew she had been mistaken. She was, from here on out, non-discriminatory when it came to muscle type. 

 

Her heart skipped approximately 3 beats as he reached for the button on his trousers and pushed them down around his ankles. 

 

“Charlie!” She exclaimed and flushed. 

 

“Live a little, Granger,” he flashed a smile before turning and flinging his body off the ledge and plunging to his death. 

 

At least that’s what it felt like to Hermione. 

 

“Charlie!!” She screamed again, creeping towards the edge caught between terror of falling to her death and terror of her companion laying at the bottom dead. 

 

He emerged from the water laughing and treading water. 

 

“You’re INSANE! You could’ve died!” She laughed, the dread easing.

 

“Come on in!” He shouted, “Water is perfect!”

 

“Absolutely not!” she shouted. 

 

“Oh come on, Hermione! You’re really going to stay up there, miserable? While I enjoy this beautiful lake all to myself?” 

 

He was goading her. 

 

It might be working. 

 

“I’m scared!” she confessed. 

 

“Hah! Ron always did say you belonged in Ravenclaw!” She gritted her teeth and took a step back. 

 

With trembling fingers but a confident resolve she pushed off her hiking shoes and started on the buttons of her shirt. She left her white tank top on over her bra and wiggled off her denims. She was dressed in at least as much as a bathsuit, maybe more depending on the style. But she still felt horribly on display. 

 

She stood on the edge of the jumping point and felt paralyzed with fear. 

 

“I don’t know, are you sure it’s safe?” she second guessed. 

 

“JUMP, HERMIONE!” He commanded. 

 

She took a deep breath and laughed. 

 

Her feet moved on their own and she leaped off the rocky edge and after what felt like forever, she broke the surface of the blue water and when the inertia of her jump stopped her from sinking any further she began kicking her legs towards the surface. 

 

She gasped in the air as she felt the sun again. 

 

“Oh my god! I can’t believe I just did that,” she laughed and wiped the water from her face. 

 

“I can,” he grinned and swam towards her. 

 

She thought about forgetting her promise to herself to stay celibate, to give into her every feral instinct and enjoy the company of this strapping wizard who was making her excited to be in his very presence.

Then, without preamble, Malfoy was there in her mind. Laughing as he plunged the pair of them into the water that felt so different but all too familiar. She squeezed her eyes shut and moved towards shallow water. 

 

Celibacy. Not for the faint of heart, especially when half naked with a charming Dragon tamer.

 

——

 

Hermione was having some serious flashbacks of her time at Hogwarts as she crouched in the underbrush watching a pair of wizards having a serious talk in the the light of the surrounding torches. 

 

Charlie was there too, his shoulders rubbing with hers as they watched the scene playing out. 

 

No dragons were in sight but certainly this felt like they were on the right path. They weren’t going to make themselves known unless absolutely necessary as really the only point of the operation was to stake out what the problems were with the Dragon trade so they could put the proper laws into place to stop it. 

 

The taller of two wizards waved his wand arm and half a dozen cages appeared. Hermione’s heart sputtered and stopped. 

 

Inside each cage was an infant dragon, small and clumsy still. Ranging in different colors and breeds, a few of them breathing out tiny puffs of flames as they roamed their small cages. 

 

“Charlie,” she breathed in pain. 

 

“Stay here,” he said through a tight jaw. 

 

“Yea,” she scoffed, “That’s obviously not happening.” 

 

He grumbled but they moved silently out of the brush. Hermione cast a silencing charm on them to mask the sound of their heavy feet through the forest. 

 

They approached the circle of torches and he gave her a long meaningful look and they both raised their wands. 

 

“Incarcerous!” She shouted and yards of thick rope shot from her wand and wrapped around the man on the left, while Charlie must have cast an Immobulus as lifted the man on the right. 

 

“Hello, Poachers,” Charlie greeted cheerfully as he stepped into the light. 

 

Hermione didn’t say anything but instead rushed to the cages and knelt beside one, letting the dragon rub against her hand as she placed it inside. He was a fat orange dragon with a bit of a belly and bright green eyes. 

 

“You poor babies. Where are your mothers?” she whispered as she took in the sight of them. 

 

Charlie started speaking in perfect Romanian. 

 

The man Hermione had apprehended starting spitting in Romanian and Hermione cast a translation charm so she might understand what Charlied seemed to already know. 

 

“The Dragons were bred in captivity. No poaching here! You are obliged to release us at once,” he sneered. 

 

“Incorrect,” Charlie supplied quickly,  “Are you aware of the Dragon Laws of the Magical Ministry of Bucharest?” Charlie started pacing, speaking condescendingly towards the two men.

 

“Of course!”

 

“Then you are aware that the possession of more than one Dragon hatchling by a single owner, is against the law. You are also aware that the breeding of Dragons outside of government sanctioned organizations, is against the law. Furthermore, you are aware that separating a Dragon from her mother before one year is considered a Class 4 felony and punishable by 15 years in  _ Inchisoare _ .” 

 

The way he so perfectly pronounced it made it obvious that it was the wizarding prison. The two men growled and fought their restraints. 

 

“Incarcerous,” Charlie said lazily to the man who was hovering in the air and he was at once wrapped in ropes and thudded to the ground painfully. Charlie walked over to him and grabbed him by the color and dragged him across the ground so he was laying next to where his friend was sitting. 

 

He then turned his back on them and walked over to the cages where Hermione still knelt, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. 

 

“They’re just babies, Charlie,” she spoke the obvious and Charlie’s worried eyes looked them over. 

 

“They seem healthy, they are gonna be alright,” he said professionally. 

 

He stood and took a deep breath, focusing all his attention. 

 

“Expecto Patronum,” he said simply and a curious spectral fox sprouted from the end of his wand, kicking at the back of his ear and sniffing at the earth. 

 

Charlie greeted his patronus and the little fox sat quietly in front of him, his head tilted, awaiting instruction.

 

“At this location you will find Dragon Infants who desperately need to be reunited with their mother or taken into sanctuary. You will also find two of the wizards responsible.” 

 

At the end, his fox sprinted away into the evening and Charlie reached out to grab her hand. Her heart stuttered at the casual gesture, feeling all at once wrong and out of place. 

 

Charlie led her quickly away back towards their camp and Hermione was confused at his eagerness to leave the site. 

 

“Why are we leaving?” she hissed.

 

“We can’t be here to witness the Romanian government apprehending them. I wasn’t joking when I said we shouldn’t interfere. We can help magical beings that we happen across… We will get in just a bit in trouble for stepping in and doing a citizen's arrest,” he looked back and smirked at her and again it felt too close to another man’s. 

They rushed back through the brush and the dark night to their small tent buried in the forest. As they stepped through the flap the tent magically expanded into a sizeable living space and Hermione caught her breath. 

 

She laughed to herself as she remembered sharing an enchanted tent with a much different Weasley not so long ago. 

 

Charlie was staring at her with curious eyes. She felt like a deer he had just stumbled across in the woods. Like he was so terrified to move and frighten her but he was also genuinely wanting to interact with her. 

 

“I’m off to bed,” she said quietly and smiled at him, “Thank you, for tonight. I’m happy we did some good.”

 

“Goodnight, Granger,” and with that goosebumps spread across her skin and she turned and left the room. 

 

\-----

 

_ “Tell me, how in the world you turned into a spy. I remember you at the Final Battle…”  _

 

_ Hermione was laying on her side nestled into the crook of Draco’s arm. His hand was making lazy circles on her hip and her fingers were exploring a constellation of scars across his chest. She guessed they were reminders of his altercation with Harry 6th year, but she didn’t mention it.  _

 

_ “Snape,” he said it like it was all the explanation she needed. There was a long pause as she waited for him to continue and he finally sighed and explained, “The night that Dumbledore died, Snape drug my sorry ass away from the others. He got me away from them long enough to explain what had happened, explain how badly I needed to get away from the whole mess. I fought him on it, because I was a hot headed git--”  _

 

_ “--still are,” she interrupted playfully and he rolled his eyes but ignored her.  _

 

_ “It took a few weeks. Then the more I saw from being at home at the Manor, the more I knew I had to get out. Snape got me in touch with the Order. I worked mostly with Lupin, others occasionally. Gathered information and relayed it back to them.”  _

 

_ “That’s it?” she asked curiously.  _

 

_ “That’s not enough?” he scoffed and pushed up out of bed.  _

 

_ “That’s not what I meant,” she amended quickly, “I mean, that’s it? That’s all you have to say about it? It must have been terrifying living under the same roof as Voldemort,” she watched as his shoulders went rigid at the mention of his name, “I can’t imagine living with that kind of secret. You could have been killed at any moment.” _

 

_ She felt goosebumps spread across her skin as she thought of the horror he had survived during the war.  _

 

_ “Well, to that end, every moment could have very easily been my last during the war. I’ve seen people killed for far less than espionage. And it kept my family out of Azkaban after the war.”  _

 

_ “How did you know that the Death Eaters wouldn’t win?” she asked genuinely.  _

 

_ “I had to do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” he turned back darkly and she swallowed the knot in her throat, “I had to put my faith in two complete suicidal idiots and their fearless swot headed friend,” she laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully, falling back onto the bed. He followed her and rested on his elbow next to her, “It was by far the most terrifying part of the entire ordeal. Everyday, waking up, wondering if you fools had managed to get caught by some snatc--” his joke died in the air between them as their minds simultaneously went to that night at Malfoy Manor. He gulped and laid down flat on his back.  _

 

_ She curled into his nook again and finally whispered, “I don’t blame you, you know.”  _

 

_ “You should,” he squeezed her tightly to him.  _

 

_ “Well, I don’t. And I’m incredibly stubborn so don’t even try to talk me into it. You couldn’t have done anything and what you could do, you did.”  _

 

_ “What does that mean?” he sneered.  _

 

_ “You didn’t identify us to the rest of them. If you had, Voldemort would have been called immediately. You gave us what we needed most. You gave us time.”  _

 

_ “I gave you nothing. I stood there and watched as that crazed psychopath tortured you endlessly and carved into your skin.”  _

 

_ Her arm phantom burned where the mark had once been. But along with his Dark Mark it had faded after Bellatrix LeStrange died at Hogwarts.  _

 

_ “Don’t let this burden you. It’s not yours to carry and for what it’s worth… I forgive you.”  _

 

_ He didn’t speak but he tightened his hold on her again. They were quiet for awhile until he finally broke the silence.  _

 

_ “I forgive you, too,” he whispered into the silence.  _

 

_ “FORGIVE ME?!” she exclaimed.  _

 

_ “Yes… for not having better sense than to team up with a couple of idiots like that. I’d have never let you get snatched, Granger,” his tone took a quick turn towards joking and she slapped his chest and laughed.  _

 

_ “You are SUCH a git,” she rolled away from him and he followed after, catching her up in another hug, this time from behind.  _

 

_ “You love it,” he whispered into her curls.  _

 

_ She sighed, “Maybe… a little…” she smiled and giggled as he nibbled on her earlobe.  _

 

_ \----- _

 

She and Charlie portkeyed to just outside Bucharest the following day. They slowly stalked the streets of the Wizarding part of town and made their way through a part of town that reminded her eerily of Knockturn Alley, looking for any clues of elicit activity. 

 

She still felt uncomfortable at the space between them. There was so much that felt commonplace about him but she had to remind herself that she didn’t know him like that at all. He had existed at the fringe of the family for a very, very long time. 

 

Nothing popped out at them and they didn’t feel quite as productive as they had the day before. Charlie heard from his boss, who had recognized his patronus and gave word that the criminals had been appropriately apprehended and the Dragons were taken into temporary custody until their mothers could be tracked down. It was hard, there wasn’t enough room for them there but there was nowhere else to take them. 

 

If they had been bred in captivity, then the mothers were most likely with smugglers. It could take ages to find them. 

 

This is why they needed another option for housing the Dragons. The population was growing at an unnatural rate due to breeding and it needed to be stopped. 

 

Hermione was headed back to London to the following morning and she was about to call it a night. After roughing it in a tent last night, they had gotten hotel rooms this evening and they were rounding the entrance to the hotel now. 

 

“Do you want to come up to my room?”

 

“WHAT?!” Hermione choked, “Your room? I, um, well…” 

 

Charlie laughed easily, “I must have really startled you the other night. I promise, that wasn’t an offer to take you to bed,” she gulped, “I just didn’t want to say goodnight yet. I’m sorry.”

 

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” her voice several octaves too high. 

 

“I like you, Hermione. I’ve had a good time with you these last few days. I can tell, obviously, that there is something going on that I am not aware of and I don’t pretend to know what it is. But I like you,” he said it so simply and casually that while it was refreshing, it startled her. 

 

“I… I enjoyed these last few days too, but…”

 

He sucked in a deep breath, “There’s always a but,” he shoved his hands deep into his trouser pockets. 

 

“But, I’m not good for you, Charlie. I’m all scary and damaged. I’ve made a LOT of bad decisions lately. A LOT. Especially when it comes to men. I can’t trust my own judgement anymore and… well, I’m celibate,” she blurted the last bit and immediately wished she could take it back. 

 

“You’re… a virgin?” his brows drew together. 

 

“No!” she laughed, more to herself, “No. I just, I’m not doing the whole ‘dating good looking, kind, rugged, totally hot Wizard’ thing right now.” 

 

She saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. 

 

“Because of the damage,” he allowed. 

 

“And… the scariness…” she finished, blushing, “If you knew me,  _ really _ knew me and all the awful no good things I’ve done lately… you would know that I’m far too far gone for you. You don’t deserve all the baggage I’m carrying. I keep going through the motions, hoping that if I pretend long enough to be healed, that magically I might be. But I’m not. I’m not even close,” she smiled sadly and wiped a tear from her cheek. 

 

He took a deep breath, “I’ve been hiding in Romania to escape reality for years and years. I’ve got a dead brother and a depressed brother. A couple other brothers I can’t really stand and a sister who’s life is so perfectly put together that everyone can’t stand her either,” he chuckled and met her eyes intensely, “ I’ve got a mom who can barely stand to look at any of us because all she sees is the one child she’ll never get to see again and a dad who is trying so hard to keep the family together that he won’t acknowledge all the brokenness of it. The last women I slept with, is now dead. And I couldn’t face that reality enough to even properly mourn her…” she breathed in his confession and her heart felt tight at his words, “I never said I wasn’t scary and damaged too.”

 

She opened her mouth to protest but he just leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. 

 

“I have a feeling I might see you again someday soon, Hermione. Maybe our stars will have aligned by then,” he smiled and she felt herself smile back, tucking a curl behind her ear, “Goodnight, Hermione.”

 

“Goodnight, Charlie. And thank you, for everything this week. It’s been an incredible trip and I’ll be in touch about… well about everything.”

 

“Looking forward to it,” he nodded and headed in, leaving her on the street. 

 

She felt thankful at this so she could catch some fresh air and take this moment to think. 

 

Maybe. Someday. She might get over this whole mess and move on with her life. Hell, she might even be happy.

She laughed to herself, knowing what an impossible feat that felt like right now. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE:
> 
> Your guys reviews make my day! If you are wanting a response, definitely try to leave on A03 or Tumblr... The replying to reviews on FFN is SO much more time consuming! I try to get to them but it takes me a lot longer.
> 
> I know people are missing Draco... there was a little flashback for you and we are back to London next chapter!
> 
> I have some serious plunny's for a Charmione next if I don't decide to do a Draco POV Companion piece. What would you rather see?
> 
> As always, thanks to SweetLilBullet for not just being my beta but for talking me through this even though I often try to abandon it as trash haha


	8. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are safe from Flo! We got some nasty winds and rain, but we were spared major damage. Hope the same is true for any of you on the East Coast.

Hermione took the last of the weekend to rest. She visited the cafe under her flat, browsed the book shop around the corner. She slept in her own bed and stayed there until as late in the morning as she could stand it. 

 

On Sunday night, she headed to the Burrow for dinner. Molly had sent an owl earlier that morning and one thing that was impossible, was to deny Molly dinner. 

 

The Burrow felt like coming home. The sights and the smells remained the same from her childhood and she felt a delicious flutter of familiarity upon entering. 

 

“Hermione, dear!” Molly cooed from the kitchen as she came through the back door, “Come in, come in!” Molly greeted her and placed both hands on her cheeks as she took her in, “You’ve grown! I hardly recognize you anymore! How was Romania?”

 

She blushed involuntarily, “It was lovely!” 

 

Molly walked back towards the stove, “Did you spend much time with my Charlie?”

 

“I did!” she admitted, “He was my guide actually. We saved a bunch of baby dragons and he showed me all the brilliant work he’s been doing out in Romania. It’s seriously unbelievable, Molly…”

 

Molly smiled down at her simmering pot, “I’m so glad to hear that. We miss him…” Hermione’s heart pained a little at the sadness in Molly’s voice. 

 

“Is everyone else here?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, oh yes…” she waved her off and stared down at her cauldron. 

 

Hermione walked into the adjacent room and found Harry and Ron. Harry was watching with a disgusted grimace as Ron warmed his appetite with a plate of Cauldron Cakes. 

 

“Hey, Hermione,” Ron said, crumbs falling out of his mouth. 

 

“Hey, guys. Where’s Gin?” 

 

Ron twitched his head out the front door and Hermione followed his nod. 

 

Ginny was sitting on the stair to the front door, her elbows resting on her knees. She didn’t turn when the door creaked open. 

 

“Glad you’re home, H,” Ginny said over her shoulder. 

 

“Missed you,” she said while sitting down, “How was your week?”

 

“Shit. You?”

 

“Not bad. Hey, when did Charlie get so hot?” she ribbed her friend. 

 

“First, EW! Second, please tell me you didn’t--”

 

Hermione giggled, “Of course not! Why was your week shit?”

 

“Practices kicked my ass, Harry’s been working like crazy and Mum has been… well mum. How’s Charlie?”

 

“He’s great! I can’t believe I went there barely knowing him, he might be my favorite Weasley brother… don’t tell Ron,” she winked. 

 

“I knew you were going to get a crush on him,” Ginny grinned at her and nudged her shoulder with her own, “Charlie has always had this whole mysterious, man candy thing about him. The girls at school were always wild over him and over summer he would get owl after owl of girls checking in on him.” 

 

Hermione’s ears burned at the frivolous gossip, “So he dated a lot? In school?”

 

“Nah, none that I can remember at least. Never at all, really. I think one girl a few years back, I remember him telling Mum, but we never met her or anything,” Hermione felt a stab in her gut. 

 

“Well, he’s brilliant. I have no doubt all the girls were mad over him,” Hermione smiled down her hands. 

 

“Yea, you’re sweet on him. I can tell,” Ginny grinned at her, “Just… be careful, ok? I don’t want either of you getting hurt.” 

 

“No worries there, Gin. He’s hundreds of miles away and in love with a girl named Annie.”

 

\-----

 

When Monday arrived, she was eager to get back into the office. She had so much she wanted to go over with her boss and she knew was returning with a fresh passion for the project. 

 

The first thing she did was send out an interdepartmental memo requesting a meeting just after lunch. Beatrice was enthusiastic at her return but Hermione could see the cautiousness in her eyes. 

 

What Hermione was hoping to accomplish would be a massive undertaking, one that she wouldn’t be able to achieve without unwavering support from many, many people. It was going to cost galleons the Ministry couldn’t spare and hours upon hours of work from her team. 

 

But, Hermione knew this was not a lost cause. It was the most important thing to her and she cradled it like she would an infant. Careful not to let anyone too close or let any harm at it. 

 

She walked confidently into the meeting, her heels muted by the brown carpet. She began laying out the packets that her team had assembled that morning and was rehearsing her pitch for the dozenth time today. 

 

She was ready. 

 

People started trickling in, all giving her a casual nod or a bright smile. Once all the seats were filled, she took a deep breath and began. 

 

“So, as most of you know, I’ve spent the last week in Romania at the Dragon Sanctuary located just here,” she waved her wand a large map covered most of the wall behind her, “Upon my arrival, 22 Dragons were being rehabilitated there. As I left this weekend, they had added 7 more to their ranks. They are equipped to handle 20 at maximum and the depletion of their resources and manpower is staggering. It is unrealistic to expect this lone Sanctuary to continue to front the efforts of this movement. Poachers, skinners and breeders are flocking to Eastern Europe for the sole purpose of capitalizing on the lack of regulations. The Dragon population is growing at an unnatural rate and the inhumane treatment of the magical beasts is shameful. I believe that we, as one of the leaders of Magical Law in Europe, are responsible to take action.” 

 

She smiled as she finished her speech. She had nailed it. 

 

She had every eye on her and with a wave of her wand pictures of the Dragons being held in Romania began to appear one by one, ending with the smallest hatchlings they had apprehended at the border. 

 

“These infants were taken from their mother after only a month or so and were being smuggled across the Ukrainian border,” she paced before them, “With proper regulations in place, this kind of activity could be halted, or at the very least slowed.” 

 

“And dear,” Beatrice spoke up kindly, “What kind of regulations are you suggesting that could stall such a massive illegal trade. It’s illegal already and they seem to be unwavered by the risk or consequence,” her eyes were kind but she was still the boss and had responsibilities to this department.  

 

“I personally would like to create a bill and present it to the Magical European Union. I would propose a higher tax on all Dragonhide goods, banning some that target endangered Dragons all together. Raising the penalties for breaking these bylaws and finally, requesting permission to begin construction on a secondary Dragon Sanctuary. This Sanctuary may be deemed temporary until the rehabilitation has succeeded and the poaching has greatly diminished, but there is a dire need for it now. The Dragons are living some 2 or 3 to an exhibit in some cases and that can prove dangerous for many.” 

 

“What issues do you all see with this proposal?” Beatrice addressed the table. 

 

There were a few concerns raised, most pertaining to the cost of the proposal. Hermione assured them there would extensive fundraising and sponsorship. 

 

“I think it deserves some more time, Hermione,” Beatrice allowed, “Let’s bring Draco Malfoy in on this. His family is deeply involved in Dragon welfare and would be a great asset to your project. He’s offered his services pro bono after he learned of it, so there’s no issue there.” 

 

“He… he what?” Hermione huffed, shock coloring her cheeks. 

 

“Yes, he heard about your project from the last time he was in the office and volunteered to help in whatever way he could at no charge. I’d owl his office and set up a preliminary brainstorming meeting.”

 

“Do you think he’s necessary to the project? I think with the proper support--”

 

“I do,” Beatrice smiled, “Let’s start there. Meet with Mr. Malfoy and his team and we can put forth a plan of action.”

 

Hermione wanted to scream but she gave only a smile to her boss as they people surrounding the table began to rise and shuffle the papers she had distributed. Most would be lost on messy desks or tossed in the recycle bin, but she knew that at least the seed had been planted. 

 

She made her way back to her office and stared at a blank piece of parchment for what felt like hours. Her quill perched in her hand, waiting for the words to pour from it’s tip. 

 

The words couldn’t seem to arrange themselves properly in her mind. 

 

“Argh,” she growled and stomped out, “Susan? Can you pen a note to Draco Malfoy’s team? Request a meeting as soon as they are amenable?”

 

“Sure thing, boss!” Susan Bones responded cheerfully. It felt weird when she used that term, she felt more of a co-worker than a superior, but technically she was. And it wasn’t because she hadn’t earned it. 

 

Just after lunch an owl came through, from Malfoy’s office. They were available first thing in the morning at their offices, a power move.  

 

She sucked her tongue between her teeth and cheek and made a clicking sound. 

 

There was no getting around this, she was going to have to work with Draco Malfoy.

 

\----

 

She didn’t want to care what she looked like the next morning. She wanted to just look the same as she did every other day. She wanted to wear her plain heels and her everyday robes. 

 

But she didn’t. 

 

She wore all her best stuff and she brushed some mascara on and twisted her hair up, just so. The weather looked nice so she draped her summer cloak over her shoulders and Apparated to Diagon Alley. 

 

She found the address easy enough, a small office just over where Ollivander's used to be. It had since been purchased and reopened, a different name but the same cozy feeling of magic and excitement. 

 

She climbed the small set of stairs just inside the entry, her heart pounding frantically and sweat gathering on her palms. She hadn’t seen him since he had accused her of being a whore and they had said everything was done between them. 

 

Each step brought them closer together and she was terrified of what lay beyond that door. 

 

At the top of the stairs was a thick wooden door with a frosted glass window. Etched into the glass was “Malfoy Consulting” and her hand paused over the door knob for a fraction of a moment before she took a large gulp of air and twisted the handle. 

 

The room was floor to ceiling of rich wood paneling and while it could have easily felt dated, it didn’t. It felt… expensive and lavish. 

 

The lobby was simple and even though there was a desk for a receptionist, none was seated there and the desk was bare. 

 

There were four doors, all of which were etched with the same frosted glass and three of them had names etched onto them.

 

  1. **Malfoy**
  2. **Nott**
  3. **Zabini**



 

Her brows furrowed at the third name, she hadn’t heard of Blaise since Hogwarts. He hadn’t even been present for the Stag Party. 

 

But, lo and behold, his door was the first to open. He was tall and his hair was cropped so short, it almost wasn’t there. His skin was a beautiful shade of ebony that was stark against his bright white smile but his eyes were the most daring shade of blue. It seemed impossible. 

 

“Hermione Granger,” he purred, his smile dazzling, “I thought I saw your name on the books this morning.” 

 

“Hello, Mister Zabini. Yes, I’m here to meet with Mister Malfoy and his team,” she pushed her eyebrows up and nodded professionally. 

 

“And Voila! I’m here,” he held his hands out fancifully and then stepped towards the fourth door. “BOYS! BOSS IS HERE!” his eyes glinted wickedly as he pushed the door open. 

 

She breathed deeply through her nose and counted to four. The entire situation was wrought with emotional distress without the helping hands of a smooth talking snake. 

 

She stepped through the door frame and Blaise pulled a chair for her. She knew the request had been to meet with his team, but she hadn’t really anticipated a group affair. She regretted not bringing an associate or two. 

 

Theo was next to enter and Hermione’s cheeks colored instantly. It was so easy to forget that he had seen her at her most intimate moments. 

Then Draco entered and her eyes hit the wooden table in front of her so quickly. She couldn’t even look at him. The emotions behind her inability were too complicated. Was she ashamed or overwhelmed, sad or inadequate. There were too many layers for her to interpret in this moment. 

 

Draco took his seat at the head of the table. She dared a glance up and thought he might be looking at her with a condescending glare or a haughty disposition… but he wasn’t. He was calm. Collected. Stoic. All the things she didn’t feel. 

 

“Granger,” Malfoy started and she jumped at the sound of his voice. Her eyes flitted towards his left hand and she noticed his wedding ring for the first time. Her gut twisted in on itself. 

 

“Mister Malfoy, Theo,” she greeted and out of the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy’s fist tighten in on itself as she greeted Theo more casually. 

 

“So, let’s just get started. How can we help the Ministry?” Theo asked kindly. 

 

“Honestly, I’m not sure that you can. However, my boss, Beatrice, thinks you will be valuable to the project and I trust her judgement. I am hoping to prepare a proposal to the European Magical Union. It would go over a raised taxed on Dragonhide goods, increased penalties and other ways that I truly believe we can assist in this crisis.” 

 

“Can you elaborate on the other ways?” Malfoy quirked a brow. 

 

“As you know,” she sighed, “My goal is to begin a Dragon Sanctuary here in Great Britain. It’s imperative that we have another place where these Dragons can be cared for and properly rehabilitated.”

 

“And as  _ you _ know, that I greatly disagree that that place is here in Great Britain--”

 

She opened her mouth to protest but he lifted his palm to her. It was terribly condescending and instead she grit her teeth together. 

 

“--But, I think there is enough time to go over that later.”

 

“The ministry is willing to back this project financially?” Blaise spoke up as he leaned back confidently in his swiveling chair. 

 

“Well, I’m not sure that they are able to. But, I am fully prepared to find sponsors and my team can raise funds--” she began rushing out. 

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” it was Blaise who spoke again, his casual demeanour annoying her to no end, “Do you have any idea how many galleons it would take to run an operation like this?”

 

She clicked her chin agitatedly, “Yes.” 

 

“No, but do you really?” Blaise leaned forward, his sneer condescending. 

 

“Knock it off, Blaise,” Theo chimed in but he didn’t listen. 

 

“The hundreds of thousands of galleons it would take to even begin the sanctuary but the cost of running it. The salaries, the food, the space… It’s unthinkable.”

 

“Well, where does the Romanian Sanctuary get their funds?” she challenged. 

 

“From the European Union,” Blaise allowed. 

 

“Well, that along with sponsors and proper fundraising… We need to have a plan, I get that. Beatrice Waterstone thinks you three are the ones who can help me with this. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn't important,” she confessed, feeling like she was saying far too much. She avoided Draco’s eyes like the plague, even though she felt them on her at all times. 

 

Draco took a giant breath and leaned forward, “We told Bea we’d take the case pro bono, and we will. I’ll take point with the organization, Blaise, get to work on a gala. Maybe Halloween?” Blaise nodded causally at this, “Theo, paperwork.”

 

“Got it, always paperwork,” Theo rolled his eyes and stood, “It was good to see you, Granger. I’ll get to work on some preliminary proposal work and I’ll be in touch with your team,” he smiled and she felt calmly at ease for the first time. There wasn’t any underlying tones or covert winks. He was cordial and kind and she appreciated how easily he moved past their clandestine tryst. She wondered idly if he had them often and that’s why he was such a pro at moving past them. 

 

Like she had room to judge, she inwardly groaned. 

 

Then her eyes fell to Draco and he had this intensity hiding in his silver eyes that she was never prepared for. 

 

She was breathing shallowly and her chest felt heavy. Tension she couldn’t name thick in the room. 

 

“Alright… and what exactly is going on here, then?” Blaise’s smart voice cut the silence and she jumped forgetting he was here. 

 

“Goodbye, Blaise,” Malfoy said pointedly, not taking his eyes off her. 

 

“No, seriously. What am I missing?” he laughed, “Something is going on. Why do you two look like--”

 

“We look like nothing, Mster Zabini,” Hermione cut him off, “I’m a lion in a snakes den. My lack of self preservation is startling, it would seem.”

 

“Why does Nott get to be in your good graces and we are Mister Malfoy and Mister Zabini? OOOOOH THAT’S RIGHT,” his eyes lit up with humor, “Didn’t the two of you--”

 

Hermione’s jaw tightened and she swore she could slap this ridiculous wizard. 

 

“Get to work on the Gala. Reach out to the benefactor list and contact my…” he swallowed thickly and his darted to her, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, “Contact Cora. She’ll be rabid to get her teeth into this,” he reorganized his parchment and Blaise stood. 

 

“Aye aye, boss,” he saluted with grandeur and winked at Hermione. She frowned at him. 

 

“He’s unprofessional,” she said sourly. 

 

“He’s Blaise,” Draco said offhandedly, staring at his parchment like it held secrets he desperately needed to know. 

 

“Who’s Cora?” Hermione asked innocently and she watched as his grip tightened and the muscles of his neck strained. 

 

“She’s, uh, she’s my mother in law,” he ran his tongue over his teeth and her eyes fell to his ring, again. 

 

“Right, I’m stupid. Of course, Cora Greengrass,” she shook her head. 

 

She knew they needed to address things if he was going to work on the project. She sucked in a deep breath and out again. She chewed on her lip as she tried to work out a sentence. 

 

“Thank you,” was the first phrase to pass through her lips, “For agreeing to help with this. I… I’d like to be friends,” she lied. 

 

“Friends?” he looked up for the first time in a long while and his mouth was drawn up into a lopsided smirk. 

 

“Well, at the very least how about colleagues who don’t rip each others heads off?” she bit her lip and smiled. 

 

This felt too close, too casua. She retreated.

 

It was important to stay friendly but not too much. She needed to create some boundaries. She needed to separate the Draco she felt she knew and the actual one. The one who lied to her and married another woman. 

 

There was a separation between reality and what she remembered and she needed to be reminded of this. 

 

“Friends,” he allowed and his eyes glanced down to his parchment again. 

 

_ Friends.  _

  
  


\-----

 

The next day her and her team went over her notes from her meeting with Malfoy Consulting. There was loads of work for everyone to do and the first on her list was going to be proving that they could handle a significant portion of the monetary responsibility to at least get it off the ground. 

 

This is how she found one, Blaise Zabini in her office Tuesday after lunch. 

 

She had skipped lunch, of course. Settling for a salad at her desk which she was still picking at. 

 

He strode in, early and not knocking. 

 

“Granger, Granger, Granger. Do my eyes deceive me or have you somehow transformed into a mega hottie?” he leaned his hands against the back of the chair across from her and she choked on a crouton. 

 

“You can’t talk to me like that!” she exclaimed. 

 

“Why?” his brows dented together, genuinely confused by why on earth he should not. 

 

“Well… because! It’s harassment!” 

 

“It’s a compliment,” he purred and rounded the chair to sit in it, kicking his heels up onto her desk. 

 

“AND you can’t put your feet on my desk!” she grabbed her wand and waved it so that his feet were shoved from her desk and he let out a playful cry. 

 

“Listen, Granger. You are going to need to lighten up if this relationship is going to work,” he raised a brow at her and smirked. 

 

“You know, I don’t think I’m capable of being any lighter than this. Light as a rock, you see. So maybe I can work with someone else?”

 

“Ahh,  è troppo male,” his accent dipping into fluid Italian, “I am all you get. Guess we will have to compromise,” he grinned. 

 

“I expect a certain level of professional decorum in my working relationships,” she stated simply. It wasn’t up for discussion. 

 

“Ah and here is where we compromise. I refuse to stiffen up and lay down for the man--” 

 

“--The man?” she sneered. 

 

“You know, THE MAN. Whoever that might be, some days it’s the Ministry… some days it’s Malfoy--” she bristled and flushed when he brought up Draco but didn’t touch on it, “I have a feeling for the foreseeable future, it’s going to be you. So, my compromise is: I won’t talk about how hot you’ve gotten or your fling with Malfoy. And you will climb down from this hoighty toighty high horse you seem to find yourself on. It’s obnoxious,” he rolled his eyes. 

 

Her breath left her violently, like she’d been kicked square in the gut. 

 

“I’ve never had a fling with Malfoy,” she lied horribly. 

 

He rolled his eyes again and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

 

“I’m not an idiot, Granger. Even if I hadn’t realized you two were in Cartagena at the same time, after he came home a sniveling mess, trying to figure out how to get out of his blood betrothal and begging my help, even if I hadn’t seen you practically vibrating with tension at being in the same room as him. Even if you hadn’t turned scarlet red just now at the mention of his name... I would have figured it out.” 

 

“I...I…” she stammered, hoping an excuse would appear magically in her mind. 

 

“It’s no use, Granger,” he waved his hand dismissively. 

 

“Does he know you know? Does Theo? Does--- she?” she couldn’t bring herself to say her name. 

 

His smile widened. He had won. 

 

“He doesn’t know I know that it’s you. He only told me he’d met a girl. Theo doesn’t know shit, he’s too fucking happy to be a Slytherin, I’ll tell you that right now. If he wasn’t so brilliant and ambitious, he’d probably be a fucking Hufflepuff,” he paused, “She knows,” he watched her carefully as he offered the last bit of information. 

 

“She knows what?” Hermione blanched. 

 

“She knows it’s you,” he laughed, “But, what can you do,” he shrugged, “It’s not like she exactly wanted to be in this marriage either. They both tried to get out of it but these Purebloods and their old lines and their fat bank accounts. They don’t give up easily, you see.”

 

“And how do you know that she knows if Malfoy didn’t tell you?”

 

She noticed a ripple of tension spread across his shoulders and he cracked his neck, “I’m a man of many secrets, Granger.”

 

“Right,” she pursed her lips, “So you’re what? Blackmailing me?”

 

He looked affronted, “Merlin, no! I just wanted to make sure I was right and watch you panic a bit. I would never do anything to hurt the girl my mate fell in love with,” his eyes glinted wickedly and she felt her chest tighten. 

 

“Well, I’m sure you’re wrong about that,” she tucked a curl behind her ear, “But I’m glad to know you only wanted to mentally and emotionally torture me and not blackmail me.”

 

“Precisely! See, I knew this working relationship was going to work out,” he beamed and she let herself smile at his incredulous nature. 

 

“Where do we begin?” Hermione ignored him. 

 

“Ok, so I’m not sure how much you know about Pureblood High Society but it’s a disgusting competition of wealth and status.” 

 

“I can imagine,” she drawled. 

 

“Well, the Lady’s of the House really like to go over the top with these types of affairs. Choosing new charities and projects is easier than choosing a new set of dress robes. I’ve contacted Lady Greengrass and she’s already gabbing away to all the other Lady’s of the House. It’ll be a bloodbath of status in no time.”

 

“If I can be blunt, does Missus Greengrass need to be involved? Now that you know my unique situation here, I’d rather not have to work so closely with their family,” she flushed as she spoke. 

 

“I’m not sure we are going to be able to avoid that. As I told you, this is the jungle. The Greengrasses and the Malfoy’s always roll together. Annoying really but there is no way that I can have one without the other. Especially with Narcissa in the state she is.”

 

New information. 

 

“State?”

 

“Oh,” he gulped, realizing he had offered too much, “She’s ill, is all. Has been for quite some time.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said softly, “I didn’t realize.”

 

“Yes, well, you can imagine why it was so hard for Draco to break off the betrothal then, yea?”

 

“What do you mean?” she leaned forward. She knew she should be retreating again. Back to where it was safe and Draco was locked away, instead she pushed forward. 

 

Blaise considered her for a moment, deciding if it was wise to proceed. 

 

“Well, there are a few layers of complexity to be considered here. One, Lucius Malfoy lost all his money during the war. It went heavily to fund You-know-who’s army and the rest was paid in restitution of damages,” her brows furrowed at this and he explained, “He paid to have Hogwarts rebuilt, Diagon Alley rebuilt, a LOT of rebuilding. It helped with his sentencing and due to that, he was given only 2 years house arrest and was not allowed to purchase another wand until recently. He had a magical tether on and couldn’t leave the Manor, he became an absolute dread… and he wasn’t exactly a Hufflepuff on his best days before,” Blaise winced, “Anyway, Narcissa’s care is expensive. Magical treatments… Muggle treatments… They are doing everything they can but it’s costly.” 

 

“Well, if they are so broke why was Dra--,” she stopped and corrected herself, “Malfoy so obsessed with his inheritance. Wasn’t it all gone?”

 

“Nope,” Blaise raised an eyebrow and leaned in as well, “His inheritance is tied up in that beautiful old Blood Magic, you see. It wasn’t under Lucius’s property because it was given to him by his grandparents to be released when he married an eligible candidate. Now, they could change the statutes of this trust fund, allow him to marry… say...a Muggleborn?” Blaise’s eyes twinkled, “But, his grandparents are dead. That’s what he came back in a fit over, trying to find a way to release his inheritance in any other way.”

 

Hermione felt as though a Dementor had just settled into the corner. All semblances of happiness vanishing and realization dawned. 

 

She groaned and dropped her face into her hands. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I… ARGH! I’ve done nothing but throw in his face what a shallow git he is for choosing money over his own happiness. For working freelance and charging an arm and a leg when he has all the money in the world. I had no idea…”

 

“Well, he’s not exactly destitute,” Blaise laughed, “Both his grandparents left him sizeable inheritances. More than enough to make up for Lucius’ losses… but there are conditions. He can’t divorce her. Not unless some very extreme things happen, and I don’t find that likely.” 

 

“Like what?”

 

He sighed, getting bored with their conversation. She, on the other hand, had never found Pureblood society so very interesting. 

 

“Infidelity, hers not his. It’s not uncommon for the Head of House to take a mistress,” she gasped and he shrugged. 

 

“That’s archaic! That’s BARBARIC! It’s--”

 

“It’s the truth. If she breaks the law or offends her Mother in Law--”

 

Hermione barked out a laugh, “You can’t be serious!”

 

“I am,” he laughed, “Listen, there are ways Draco gets out of this marriage unscathed and with his money too… and Narcissa  _ needs _ that money. But it’s gotta be Astoria who fucks it up. Wizards get a pass in Pureblood Society, they have free reign. And that’s not me being a misogynist, truly. I’m an enlightened bloke! As is my mother, which is why I am free as a bird from any marital contract. And he might love you, but his mother saved his life more than once and has been the only ray of light in his shithole of existence. Nothing in the world, not even his own happiness, would make him turn on her.”

 

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect that ever,” she filled her lungs with stale air, “It doesn’t matter. Changes nothing that I know… but it is nice to know. Thank you,” they smiled at each other and she felt a friendship of sorts budding between them. 

 

“So, we’ve got the Mother hen on board? How else so we raise enough money to get this thing off the ground?” she pressed her palms on the desk, trying to shove Draco Malfoy and his complicated life back into the back of her mind where he belonged. Back where Cartagena was stored and all her memories of them. 

 

“We start by making this the must be event of the season. We get Skeeter, we get the Ministry heads and delegates from the Magical European Union. We get every Pureblood with something to prove and Galleons burning holes in their pockets. We get them all rounded up, liquored up and give them a show. I’m think we call the event  _ Dragonheart _ . Kinda cheesy, but people will like it.”

 

“Do you remember how the Yule Ball was all frosted with ice and snow?” she asked conspiratorially. 

 

“Yea,” his brows drew together in confusion. 

 

“Let’s do this one in fire and smoke,” she grinned deliciously. 

 

“Now you’re thinking,” he returned her grin brightly. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to know ALL the thoughts! 
> 
> I just love hearing your thoughts and appreciate every review. Seriously, you should see me grinning at my inbox :)
> 
> As always... Thanks to SweetLilBullet! This piece wouldn't be here without you!


	9. Snooping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little early for this update BUT it is Hermione Granger's birthday! How could I not post a chapter?!
> 
> I have a solid 10 chapters ahead in writing and have thus decided that every time I finish writing a chapter, I will post another. So that may be daily or every few days... just depends on how much writing I am able to get in! 
> 
> Your reviews always spark my motivation to write more so please please please let me know all your thoughts! 
> 
> Thanks SweetLilBullet for everything you've done for this story!!

An envelope with tiny a red dragon seal found its way to Hermione’s desk by the end of the week and she smiled at the familiar sigil. 

 

Charlie. 

 

She opened it and inside she found a magical photograph of Charlie with three pot bellied baby Dragons perching on his limbs. One of them repeatedly puffed out a small burst of flames and Charlie yelped each time. 

 

She brought her fingers up to her lips and smiled at the sweet photograph. She laid it down and grabbed the included letter. 

 

_ Hermione,  _

 

_ Wanted to give you an update on the babies. They are doing well and settling into life at the Sanctuary. We found a den and 4 hatchlings have been safely returned to their mothers.  _

 

_ These three mischief makers appear to be triplets and are with us for now. Causing a ruckus and driving Annie up the wall.  _

 

_ Annie misses you. So do I.  _

 

_ X -  _

 

_ Charlie _

 

She bit her lip at his sweet words and wondered idly what he might be up to. She picked up the photograph again and paired it with the letter, staring at the pair of them. 

 

Maybe. 

 

Maybe when she was finished fixing what Malfoy broke. 

 

A knock on her door made her jump and she looked up to see Malfoy standing there in an expensive suit. She set the photo and letter down and stood clumsily.

 

“Got a minute? I was just leaving the Auror Department and wanted to touch base with you on a few things.”

 

“Of course,” she stammered and gestured to the chair across from her. 

 

He took it and his eyes flickered to the moving photograph and letter on her desk. 

 

Charlie looked positively charming juggling the triplets and in plain sight were the words. 

 

_ Annie misses you. So do I.  _

 

_ X -  _

 

_ Charlie _

 

Draco couldn’t rip his eyes from the words and she finally started nervously collecting the papers scattered on her desk and grabbed those up as well. 

 

When she returned to look at him his knuckles were white against the hand railing of the chair and his jaw clenched. 

 

“Something you wanted to discuss?” she reminded him. 

 

He sucked in a sharp breath, “Yes…” he struggled to gather his thoughts, “I’ve spoken with Bea about the Dragonheart Gala and it seems we are on track there. Blaise acquired the Governor's Mansion at no cost, so that’s a huge win. Theo is running into trouble with the proposal. He wanted to know if you could come by Monday morning?”

 

“No problem,” she was quickly jotting down notes, “If you can have him owl me the draft he’s working on, I can take a look at it over the weekend and come in more prepared Monday morning.” 

 

He didn’t respond and after a long moment she glanced up at him. 

 

“Draco?”

 

His eyes were lidded with emotion and at the mention of his name it cleared. 

 

“Did you eat?” he changed the subject abruptly. 

 

“Did I eat? Did I eat, what?” she narrowed her eyes. 

 

“Lunch. Let’s get lunch,” he stood quickly. 

 

“I can’t get lunch with you,” she blurted. 

 

“We’re friends, remember? Friends eat lunch. Business associates  _ definitely _ eat lunch.”

 

“It’s… It’s not appropriate,” she said in a low voice, as if anyone might over hear and deduce that they had spent two weeks shagging all over Cartagena. 

 

He smirked, “It’s just lunch. You had dinner with Theo after your....” 

 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warned, but there was no malice. It almost felt dangerously close to flirting. She smiled and bit her lip, “Friends have lunch,” she repeated. 

 

“How many times does it have to be said out loud before you lock it away in that brilliant mind of yours, Granger? Sandwiches, we’ll talk shop and I’ll pay. But just because it’s a business lunch.”

 

“I thought it was a friends lunch,” she stood, “If it’s a friends lunch, I should pay for myself.” 

 

She challenged him and reached for her cloak but it whizzed through the air before she could. 

 

Draco held it out to her and she rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. She pulled the curls up off her neck so he could drape it there and his fingers grazed the back of her neck for a microsecond. She felt it everywhere and they stood there, not touching or even looking at each other and she could feel him breathing her in. 

 

She wanted to turn and do the same. Just to look at his face up close again. Remember how it felt under her fingertips and how his jaw sloped just perfectly---

 

She shook her head and moved away quickly. 

 

“Lunch,” she repeated one more time. 

 

That look in his eyes was back. The one that made her feel like he could never see anyone else but her. She felt like the sun, the center of his universe. 

 

But she wasn’t, she laughed to herself. She wasn’t even close. 

 

She was Pluto. 

 

Once a part of the solar system, now long forgotten and floating out there in space. Alone. 

 

They walked through the Ministry and while it felt horribly inappropriate, she tried to remind herself that no one knew about the pair of them and their sordid history. It was their secret. Well, theirs and Ginny and Harry and Blaise’s secret. 

 

As they stepped out of the employee entrance, she could feel the autumn wind picking up. She would need to get her thicker cloak out soon. 

 

Just two blocks away they made their way towards a bustling cafe on the corner. There were patio tables outside that were packed with witches and wizards catching up over lunch. 

 

They walked through to the counter and ordered, Draco paid by asking the clerk to charge it to his company account and Hermione’s eyes narrowed into slits. 

 

“I can afford my own lunch,” she protested as he pulled a chair out for her. 

 

“Not as much as I can,” he said dully and sat across from her. 

 

There was a beat of silence and her eyes darted nervously about as she chewed on her lip. 

 

“This is awkward,” she finally sputtered. 

 

“No, it’s not,” her eyes flashed up to him and he was leaning back casually. It annoyed her to no end. 

 

“You can’t speak for the both of us. I feel very awkward.”

 

“How was Romania?” he asked brightly but she saw the mischief in his eyes. 

 

“It was good. Got a lot of work done and we saved half a dozen baby dragons from smugglers. It was a prod--”

 

“We?” he interjected, his voice too high. Her eyes darted to him and she bit her lip to keep from smiling. He was digging for information. 

 

“Well, yes. I was working with the Romanian Sanctuary. I couldn’t very well apprehend smugglers on my own.” 

 

“Remind me, who’s on the team out there in Romania?” he tilted his head and by the playful look in his eyes, he knew he was being transparent. 

 

“Hmm…” she said taking a long sip of her tea, “There was Davidson, Conrad… a lovely woman named Winifred, but I doubt you’d know her. She manages most of the office work, so maybe you might end up getting to know her…” she was stalling and he began to tap his thumb agitatedly against the table as his eyes narrowed into slits. 

 

“Say, doesn’t another Weasley work out there in Romania?” he jumped for it and she smirked. 

 

“Oh, you know, now that you mention it. Charlie Weasley does work there too. Hmm, can’t believe he slipped my mind,” she tilted her head to the side and watched his response. 

 

“I didn’t realize you guys were friendly,” he continued nonchalantly. 

 

“I’m friendly with the entire Weasley family. They are the only family I have left,” she shrugged. 

 

“But with Charlie in particular? I didn’t know he came back all that much…” 

 

“I haven’t spent much one on one time with him before, you’d be correct there. But, he was my guide in Romania.”

 

“Ahhhhh,” he grinned, feeling like he’d gotten her to admit some tawdry detail. She rolled her eyes at him, “Because you seem quite familiar with him.”

 

She barked out a laugh, “And how on earth did you come to this conclusion? Other than by peering at my personal effects that happened to be laid out on my desk.”

 

“‘ _ Happened to be laid out’”,  _ he mocked, “You practically shoved it under my nose!” 

 

She laughed at him again, “You’re completely ridiculous. I do hope you know that.” 

 

Their food arrived and she began eating, although he just stayed in his casual posture, eyes never leaving her. 

 

“So, come off it. Tell me what’s going on with you two,” he queried. 

 

“No!” 

 

The air between them still felt light and she liked that but she worried that this was a slippery slope they were heading down. One she didn’t quite feel comfortable on.

 

“So, you’re dating him then,” he assumed quickly. 

 

She laughed and shook her head, continuing her lunch. 

 

“Wow, I can’t believe you are really dating Charlie Weasley…” he persisted. 

 

“I’m not dating Charlie Weasley. There, are you happy now?” she lifted a brow at him, “Can we just eat our lunch? This is so inappropriate!” she hissed. 

 

“Why! Friends talk about who they are dating or  _ not _ dating…”

 

“Right. Well I am not dating anyone. So we can close that conversation and move forward, right?”

 

“It’s just that I happened to see that note--”

 

She groaned, her food halfway to her face. 

 

“Malfoy. I’m not dating anyone, not that it is any of your business as my friend  _ or _ colleague, but I’m not. Charlie expressed some interest in me,” Draco’s eyes flared at that sentence and his jaw twitched, “ _ If _ we were ever in a position that we would be able to make that happen… t3hat time is not now. So I’m not dating anyone,” she shrugged noncommittally. 

 

“What did you say?” he replied lowly. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What did you say when he said that he was interested?” he pressed. 

 

“Why do you care so much?” she sighed, feeling defeated by this endless conversation. 

 

There was a long moment of silence and he finally whispered, almost to himself, “I don’t know.”

 

After everything, she couldn’t stand to see him so dejected, “I told him… I told him I hadn’t been making very good choices lately when it came to men. I told him I was still working through a heartbreak, one that left me in no way to be open to dating anyone, she confessed heavily. 

 

Draco’s breathed in deeply, “I’m sorry I pried.” 

 

“No, you’re not,” she shook her head at her plate and smiled.

 

“Nope, he smirked, “I’m not.”

 

They returned the conversation to a more neutral topic, work. There was so much to plan and even more roadblocks set up in their way. They still hadn’t broached the topic of where the new sanctuary would go and that needed to be discussed before they could move forward with planning it. 

 

“So, the location of this new sanctuary…” she began, treading carefully, “I know you don’t believe the Highlands to be a good choice, but I think we can make it work.”

 

“Why is it so important to you that this stay in England?” he clipped, “There are far better areas and you know it. Russia has so much empty countryside they could house 50 Dragons.” 

 

She bit her cheek as she thought about it and finally confessed, “I don’t want to pass this off to anyone. I don’t trust anyone but us to take this through to the end. If we raise these funds, pass this proposal and send it all off to Russia? That’s it. My involvement ends. I have no jurisdiction and the MEU and Russian Ministry would have complete control. How can I be sure that there isn’t going to be corruption or --”

 

He cut her off by raising his palm to her, a gesture she openly hated but she didn’t remark on it. 

 

“Ok.”

 

He returned to his sandwich. 

 

“Ok?” she shot back, suspicious. 

 

“Yes. Ok. You’re right.”

 

Hermione’s jaw nearly hit her plate with the ferocity that it fell open. 

 

“Don’t look at me like that, Granger. I’m a logical person and that makes sense to me. Had you explained that from the beginning instead of being your typical stubborn--”

 

“--I am not stubborn. You just refuse to see things from my perspective and then shoot down my ideas without even taking the time--”

 

“--Swot headed, incorrigible self. If you took the time to clearly present your argument--”

 

“Oh, don’t start with me on this! You know full well that I would never fight for something so vehemently if I didn’t think it was best--”

 

“Precisely! Just because you think something is best, doesn’t mean it IS best. To substantiate that you need to provide facts and reason. Not just hide behind your heroic name and house and think that everyone else needs to fall in line--”

 

“--You swarmy prat. I swear you’ll never change--”

 

“SWARMY PRAT! I’ve just agreed with you!”

 

“AND INSULTED ME!”

 

“Pshh,” he rolled his eyes and when he returned to look at her he paused. Her breath caught in her throat as he considered her. 

 

She was near panting from the exercise of arguing with Draco Malfoy. It was no easy feat and she had always felt exhilarated by it. A few months ago they may have rolled around the bedroom after such an argument, but now she felt no outlet. It just buzzed around her chest until she felt anxious from the adrenaline. 

 

She threw her napkin over her plate and sat back from the table. 

 

“Finished?” he asked, as if they hadn’t just been hissing and roaring at each other a few minutes before. 

 

“Quite,” she smiled tightly. 

 

They rose from the table and Hermione noticed that Draco’s hand moved towards her lower back but before he touched her, it closed to a fist and fell back down to his side. 

 

They walked in near silence for the first block before she felt she should say one thing more. 

 

“I, um… Blaise told me about your mum. I’m so sorry, Malfoy. I had no idea,” she said earnestly. 

 

He tensed abruptly, “Thank you,” he clipped. 

 

“Can you tell me more about her condition? Maybe there is something I can help with?”

 

“Doubtful,” he shoved his hands deep into his pockets, “She has what the Muggle healers are referring to as ALS, a nerve disorder that our healers don’t have much experience in.” 

 

“Oh…I’m very sorry, Draco.”

 

“You’ve heard of it, then?” 

 

“Yes. Is it very aggressive?”

 

“It wasn’t… but it’s gaining speed,” his lips flattened into a tight line, “She needs round the clock care and the House Elves aren’t cutting it anymore.”

 

“Is Astoria handling it all well?” she asked genuinely, “I’m sure it’s difficult for you both… in such a new marriage.”

 

“She is. She’s… she’s a good person. She cares about my mum and if I had to be in this ridiculous sham of a marriage, I guess I’m glad it’s with someone who at least isn’t a total monster,” he looked up with a lopsided grin then, “Could have been Goyle’s sister.” 

 

She laughed a little and they were at the entrance to the Ministry. 

 

“Lunch was fun-ish,” she gave him an awkward smile. 

 

“Fun-ish?”

 

“Well, you were a prat. But I don’t know that we’ve ever shared a meal when you weren’t one,” she smiled bashfully. 

 

“That’s not true. I’m an excellent dinner companion, remember that little place with the really good food near the beach?” his eyes lost in a memory. 

 

_ Dangerous.  _

 

“Well, have a good weekend, Malfoy,” she rushed, before a memory could drift into her mind, “Tell Theo I’ll be in Monday morning and don’t forget to ask him about sending that draft over?”

 

“You got it, Granger.”

 

She walked away from him and felt his gaze on her as she retreated. She didn’t turn to check, she could tell. 

 

\----- 

 

Theo owled over the most current draft and Hermione spent most of Saturday making notes and studying the proposal as best he could. He had done a brilliant job on it and she found herself often in awe at his legal prowess and the poetic nature of his words. 

 

Sunday, she found herself at the Burrow. 

 

It was lively and cramped, as usual. Molly was murmuring to herself in the other room and George was laughing hysterically with Ron. 

 

Her mind drifted back to what Charlie had said about him being all scary and damaged too. He had been so vulnerable about his family but she started to wonder if maybe he had been away for too long. His family didn’t look all dark and twisty like he’d made it out to be. 

 

She watched Molly in the kitchen, busying herself and never stopping long enough to take a breath. She didn’t even sit to eat. 

 

George asked her a question and Hermione watched as Molly’s eyes looked towards him, flinched and then darted quickly away. Something, she would never have noticed before. She did it again when Ron started laughing with George again. 

 

A chill ran down her spine, thinking of all the pain this woman was harbouring all by herself. 

 

Arthur seemed to be zoned out at the dinner table and Ron and Ginny were bragging, but only to each other. As if they each had something to prove to just the one sibling. 

 

It made her have a dark chuckle. 

 

Charlie had been more than accurate on his assessment of his family, even if he wasn’t around. It pained her that it was enough to keep him away. 

 

Just then they heard the sound of an Apparition and Harry’s voice rung out immediately. 

 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know, I’ve buggered up dinner. I’m sorry!” 

 

He rushed into the kitchen, hair sticking up in every direction. 

 

He went to Molly first, kissing her on the cheek that she offered him. He then rounded on Hermione and squeezed her shoulder before settling into Ginny and kissing her on the cheek. A blush forming on her cheekbones. 

 

“Oi! What about me? Not even a hullo for your best mate?” Ron accused, crumbs falling from his mouth. Hermione’s face twisted up in disgust at his slovenly ways. 

 

“What kept you?” Ron said loudly, flecks of food lying out, hollering over Ginny’s head who was seated between them. 

 

“Work, of course,” Harry smiled tightly at Ginny who was grinding her teeth flat at her brothers obnoxious nature. 

 

“Big case?” Ron shouted and it seemed to set everyone at the table on edge watching Ginny struggle to maintain her temper. 

 

“Nope, just waiting on the night shift. He was running late,” he tried widening his eyes at Ron so he might get the hint. 

 

There was a beat of silence. 

 

“What?” Ron yelled one last time and the table seemed to erupt at once in groans and frustration. 

 

“Shut up, Ronald!” Ginny finally hissed at him and Molly admonished her quickly. 

 

At first glance, she would have considered this a normal family argument between the Weasley’s. But she paid close attention to the people involved, the dullness in which Arthur commanded them to stop. The way Fred clenched his jaw. The way Molly closed her eyes and sucked in her breaths sharply. 

 

Her and Harry’s eyes met and he rolled his eyes and sighed. 

 

\-----

After dinner, Hermione made herself busy in the kitchen with Molly. 

 

She liked to clear the table and do dishes the Muggle way, at least for a little bit. Dinner was always so much… so much noise, so much food, just… so much. The kitchen with Molly was a quiet safe space.

 

Her hands dipped into the sudsy water as she scrubbed and rinsed and set out to dry plate after plate. 

 

Molly wiped and organized her counters.    
  


“How are things, Molly?” Hermione broke the peaceful quiet and Molly almost jumped out her skin. 

 

“Good, dear. How is work?”

 

“Brilliant,” she responded and while she desperately wanted to talk to Molly… she realized, she didn’t  know her. 

 

She’d been a child when she first met her and the older they got, the darker the world had gotten. They were all banished to Ron’s room during adult conversations, per Molly’s demand and Hermione had never really had a conversation that wasn’t about the Weasley children or Harry Potter.    
  


“Molly?” 

 

“Hmm?” Molly started putting things in the fridge. 

 

“What was your favorite class at Hogwarts?”

 

Molly closed the fridge and looked curiously at Hermione.

 

“Charms,” she finally responded quietly. 

 

“I think it might have been my favorite too… Especially as a Muggle, that’s what I always imagined Magic to be like. It was so fun.”

 

“It was the most fun by far, plus…” she smiled to herself, “Arthur was just  _ awful _ at Charms. He used it as an excuse to shamelessly flirt with me. We would sit up around the common room for hours, far past when everyone went to bed and he would beg my help.”  

 

“Sounds like Ron,” Hermione laughed, “But he was like that in every subject…”

 

“That boy…” 

 

“When did you and Arthur start dating?”

 

“Oh, gosh... “ Molly smiled genuinely and leaned against the counter, “How old was I?”

 

“It was Valentine’s Day, 6th year when you finally agreed to stroll through Hogsmeade with me, Molly Weasley,” Arthur called from behind them, leaning casually on the door frame. 

 

“Oh! You snooping man,” Molly blushed and tossed her kitchen towel at him, which he caught gracefully. 

 

“To be honest, Hermione… I’m quite brilliant at Charms, but this pretty girl wouldn’t give me the time of day. She was in love with some twit from Hufflepuff… what was his name?” 

 

The two of them looked starry eyed at each other and Hermione grinned to herself. 

 

“His name was Edwin Winchester and he was a lovely boy!”

 

“Rubbish,” Arthur said and approached his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist. The mischievous glint in his eyes reminded her so much of Fred and George. 

 

Hermione withdrew her wand and set a charm to finish the dishes. 

 

“I’ll go and find the others,” she smiled at the Weasley couple and left, catching them sneak a kiss out of the corner of her eye. 

 

\-----

 

_ Charlie,  _

 

_ Loved hearing from you the other day. The babies look beautiful and well fed, so good work.  _

 

_ I’ve been working on this proposal and would love to pick your brain about it. It’s so overwhelming and I know you’d be able to navigate it so much easier than I would.  _

 

_ I saw your family tonight. They miss you terribly. They might benefit from a visit from their loveable big brother.  _

 

_ All this to say… you should come for a visit when you can.  _

 

_ Tell Annie I haven’t forgotten her.  _

 

_ Xx -  _

 

_ Hermione.  _

 

She chewed on her lip as she watched the owl fly off into the night. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are you thoughts?! Can't wait to hear from you!


	10. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, it's been a crazy few days! Harry Potter Bar Crawl has been officially checked off the Bucket List and I will be going AGAIN and AGAIN! It was the most fun! The weekends fun activities kept me from posting and writing, but I wanted to get another chapter up! 
> 
> As soon as the next one is ready, I'll post the next and so on and so forth!
> 
> I LOVE how divided people have been about Charlie andddd how much people are willing to jump off the Dramione ship for him haha. I have a soft spot for him and am seriously considering a Charmione! But this is, alas a Dramione.

Monday morning found her hunched over a conference room table with Theo and Blaise. The long oval desk had papers haphazardly strewn over it and notes jotted down on any spare piece of parchment they could get their hands on. 

 

They were constantly asking for “that one piece of paper I just had” and they would shuffle through it all again. 

 

Hermione asked on no less than three occasions if it might be worth it to stop and organize their files to which they had both waved her off. Apparently, they thrived in this chaos. 

 

She did not. 

 

She had piled her hair on top of her head in a messy knot, a nervous habit and after about 30 minutes on her feet, she had kicked her heels off and now stood in her pencil skirt and blouse, barefoot. 

 

She jotted something down and then shoved the quill into her bun, afraid she might lose it amongst the junk that was littering the table. 

 

“So, the raised tax on Dragonhide goods? How much did we anticipate that to generate each year? Could we propose that we allocate those funds towards the Sanctuary?” Hermione asked, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. 

 

“Brilliant, Granger. Truly. Ok, hand me that parchment,” Hermione made a face and handed over her notes to Theo. He scribbled on the bottom his thoughts and she scrunched his nose. 

 

He was sloppy. She didn’t like sloppy. 

 

“Shit, I’ve got to run out,” Blaise said staring at his timepiece, “I forgot I had a meeting with the hen.” 

 

“Hen?” Hermione tilted her head. 

 

“You so aptly named Lady Greengrass the Mother Hen last time, I thought it was appropriate enough to stick,” he winked at her and she blushed in good natured fun. 

 

“Drinks tonight? Theo?” Theo nodded absently and Blaise’s eyes fell to Hermione, “Granger? Drinks? We can go over this mess one last time?”

 

“Oh, um, sure! Sure, ok,” she stammered. 

 

“ _ Most brilliant witch of our age, my ass _ ,” he grumbled to himself and she couldn’t help but have a laugh, “Tonight! Hawthorne! 6:00!” he had his cloak in his hand and was pointing at Theo and herself and jogging out the door. 

 

Blaise Zabini had to be the most charming son-of-a-you-know-what that she’d ever met. He was horribly crass and abrasive but somehow it added to his allure. Not that she would ever see him in a way other than an oddball friend or rather, acquaintance, but it was interesting to watch him.

  
  


The Floo roared to life and Theo cursed. 

 

“Shit,” he hissed, “Is it really after lunch already? I’ve a meeting with the Prime Minister of Romania. Can you run into Draco’s office and grab me the file I placed on his desk? It’s labeled Dragonheart.”

 

The Floo alerted again, flaring up in a green flame. 

 

“Please, this call is so bloody important. I just placed it there this morning, it’s on the right corner, ok? He won’t mind.” 

 

Hermione grimaced as Theo turned towards the Floo with a bright, “Prime Minister! How are you?!” 

 

She took one last look and bit her lip. 

 

She padded barefoot out of the conference room and peeked about the lobby. No sign of any blonde haired snakes ready to slap her hand for snooping. 

 

Her hand paused over his door knob and she took in a sharp breath, gathering all her courage. 

 

His office was tidy. Nothing like the train wreck the boys and her had created in the conference room. The colors were rich and she was surprised not everything was draped in emerald colored fabrics and silver furnishings. 

 

Mostly, things were grey, but accented with gem tones that felt lavish and his desk was a deep cherry color with a shiny finish. 

 

On the corner of his desk… was no file. She cursed to herself and heard Theo laughing obnoxiously, stalling time and asking about the Romanian Minister’s wife. 

 

She groaned and walked around his desk. There were no obvious files lying about, nothing that caught her eye and she certainly wasn’t about to start snooping through her ex-lover’s desk. 

 

She grumbled to herself and turned to leave when the corner of a moving photograph caught her eye. It was slid underneath a desk calendar that took up nearly his entire desk and it gave her pause. 

 

There was something about it that struck her as so vaguely familiar she couldn’t quite place it and without giving it much thought her hand reached out and slid the photograph from its hiding place. 

 

It nearly took her breath away and she felt her throat constrict. 

 

There she was, laying back on the fresh sheets of her hotel in Cartagena. it was the first photo she took, the one she laid on her nightstand and had almost sent to her friends. But she had changed her mind and decided to send them one of her in the sun. It was the one she thought she must have left or tossed or misplaced. 

 

But it was here. Safe. In Draco Malfoy’s office. She swallowed slowly and held the photograph in two hands. Why had he taken it? Why was he storing it here?

 

A throat cleared from the doorway and her eyes darted up guilty. 

 

Draco was standing there, his chin tucked down and staring at her with an unreadable expression. 

 

“Help you, Granger?” he spoke in a low tone. 

 

“I, um… I was looking for a file. Theo sent me in here for it. He said it’s marked--”

 

“Dragonheart,” Draco finished and held up a file that he had already been holding, “I took it with me to my meeting so I could go over his notes.”

 

Theo appeared over his shoulder, “Bloody hell! Are you two trying to make me look like an idiot to this man?! Granger, where’s the file?” he asked annoyedly. 

 

“It’s here, mate. Solid notes. I had no issue,” he never took his eyes off Hermione and that blasted photograph. In her mind she was trying to think of a spell that would vanish it from her hands and put it back where it belonged, but it was too late. He knew what she was holding.

 

Theo snatched the file folder from Draco and walked back to the conference room. 

 

“I should go,” she clipped and realized she was still holding the photograph of herself. She set it down on the corner of the desk and moved quickly to leave, her bare feet seeming even more inappropriate now than they had a few minutes ago. 

 

His hand shot out and gently grasped her forearm as she passed him and she gasped at the sudden and unexpected touch. She had almost forgotten how his skin felt against hers and it brought back a rush of memories she tried so hard to lock away. 

 

He turned his face towards her and inhaled deeply. 

 

“You can take the photograph, if you want,” he whispered and she felt his breath brush the loose curls on the nape of her neck that had come loose from her top knot. 

 

“Why on earth do you have it, Draco?” tears welling in the corners of her eyes; eyes that were fixed on the floor. 

 

She could see one side of his face pull up from the corner of her vision, “Just wanted to be able to see you.”

 

The vulnerability of his confession left her wanting. 

 

_ Married. Married. Married.  _

 

“You can keep it,” she gulped and left him standing there in his office as she returned to the conference room. 

 

Theo was in the middle of his conversation and she sat at the table covered in parchment. She stared at the pieces of a design that might be her undoing. She was beyond walking through fire, she was dancing with it. She didn’t know how to back out now and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. 

 

She didn’t want to be Draco Malfoy’s mistress. Not in the slightest. But she wasn’t sure she didn’t want him in her life at all. Maybe there truly was a way to keep him as a friend. To lock up the feelings that were constantly pulling her down and enjoy a casual, working relationship with him. 

 

But then, he entered the conference room, jacket off and rolling up the sleeves of his button up. He loosened his tie as he approached the table and ran a lazy hand through his hair. 

 

She laughed to herself and shook her head. 

 

He looked at her with confused eyes and mouthed, “What?”, completely oblivious to his affect on her. 

 

She shook her head and smiled to herself. She began organizing the papers in front of her, Theo and Blaise be damned. 

\-----

 

They had worked straight through lunch and Hermione was starving. She needed to head back into work to finish a few things but she decided to stop for some take away. 

 

She rounded the corner to a small cafe and popped in quickly. She ordered a salad and leaned against the counter, waiting on her order. 

 

The morning left her drained. Not only were they preparing a massive presentation, but she also couldn’t help but feel like Draco siphoned energy from her, leaving her with none left for herself. 

 

She wondered if that chemistry that surged between them would ever dull. She hoped, in time, that they could work together as needed without issue. 

 

She looked up as some motion caught her eye in her peripheral. 

 

“Ginny?” she asked, surprised. Ginny didn’t look so hot… Her skin was pale and her hand was ghosting over her lips, “Are you feeling okay?”

 

“Hermione,” she smiled weakly, “I’m alright. Just feeling a bit nauseous, actually.”

 

“Oh no! A stomach bug? You didn’t eat here did you?” she laughed, “I just ordered something…”

 

“Oh no, I’m sure it’s something I ate earlier. How are you?”

 

“Doing okay… just left Malfoy’s office.”

 

“How’s that going? I can't imagine it’s easy working with him normally… given your set of circumstances, I’d say it’s impossible.”

 

“Sometimes, it feels that way. Other times, I feel like I just want to be near him… even if it’s as a colleague. I don’t know…” she gulped, feeling insecure in her confession. 

 

“It’s ok… for it to feel complicated in a way you can’t really understand. Just be careful… I’m not sure you were meant to be someone’s mistress. You deserve better.”

 

“Oh, nothing like that, Gin. I just feel… sad. Anyway, enough about me! How are you? How’s the team?”

 

“Teams great! I’m getting some actual play time and practices are tough but I love it. I know Harry’s jealous,” she grinned.

 

“I bet!”

 

“You still need to make it to one of my games! I’m not giving up!” 

 

“You know I don’t like Quidditch,” she made a face. 

 

“Yes, but you like me!” 

 

“Take out for Her-mi-one,” the clerk called out, managing to butcher it, even though he sounded it out. 

 

She rolled her eyes, “That’s me! I’ll see you, Gin!”

 

“See you.”

 

Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with her dear friend and made a note to check in with her tomorrow. 

  
  


\-----

 

She entered the Hawthorne and approached the Maitre’D, “Hermione Granger, I’m meeting some associates?”

 

“Of course, Miss. Please, just this way.” 

 

The dining room was surprisingly busy for a weeknight and she thought she recognized a few former classmates, not Gryffindors, up near the bar. The host led her effortlessly through the crowds to a table near the center, where not two but three men awaited her presence. 

 

That had been foolish of her, not to assume that Draco would be joining them as well. 

 

“Your party, Miss,” he nodded elaborately and gestured towards the table. 

 

“Thank you,” she smiled warmly at him and Theo and Draco both stood to pull her chair, but Draco beat him to it by a fraction of a moment, “Gentlemen,” she greeted the table, “Thank you,” she said as Draco took his seat again. 

 

“Granger, what are you drinking?” Blaise asked, never having moved from his seat. 

 

“Oh, just a butterbeer is fine. Thank you.” 

 

All three of their eyes widened so large they looked at risk of their eyeballs just rolling right out of their heads. 

 

“You’re not having a butterbeer,” Blaise finally retorted, “Anything but a butterbeer. You’re not 15, for Merlin Sake,” he was leaned back in normal relaxed pose, one arm rested on the arm of the chair and the other swirled a rocks glass of some presumably very expensive amber liquid. 

 

She narrowed her eyes at him, “I don’t care. Butterbeer was an easy choice, if you care that much, order whatever you like.”

 

The waitress walked over and Blaise opened his mouth with a wicked glint in his eye but Draco spoke first. 

 

“A bottle of your finest Champagne,” he paused and looked at Blaise, “Make it two, please.”

 

Both Blaise and Hermione snapped their heads to him. 

 

“It’s a compromise and also, we’re celebrating,” he grinned at the three of them. 

 

“Celebrating?” Hermione’s brows drew together. 

 

“As of today, after Theo spoke with the Minister of Romania… we officially have the backing of the majority of delegates at MEU. Our proposal should pass,” his eyebrows lifted and Hermione saw actual joy touch his eyes. 

 

She squealed and clapped her hands together before reaching out to him. As if it were a habit, he opened his palm to her and took her hand and squeezed it briefly. It had been only a moment but Blaise missed nothing and his eyes tightened. 

 

“I can’t believe this,” she gushed and quickly released her hand, Draco noticing the slip as well and sitting up straight in his chair, “Thank you all. From the bottom of my heart, I couldn’t have done this without you. When do we present?” 

 

Theo spoke next, “Thursday, just before the Dragonheart Gala. We will be able to bring to them a fat check, a beautiful proposal and a hell of a media story. Hey, sounds just like your marriage, Draco. Except the proposal part,” Theo ribbed him and Hermione and Draco stiffened. 

 

She felt Blaise’s calculating eyes on them, watching their every move. 

 

The Champagne arrived and the first round slid down their throats easily and the next was poured… and the next. 

 

They had moved on from the topic of the MEU and instead were trading Slytherin stories as Hermione almost doubled over in laughter.

 

They all gave Draco a lashing for losing his virginity to Millicent Bulstrode, which seemed to be an ongoing joke amongst them. They laughed at how Blaise had managed to light his own pants on fire during a dare and when they started to tell a story about Theo he reminded them that he had enough dirt on them both and they all shared a look, a laugh and then shut their mouths. 

 

The first sign of his true Slytherin nature at work. 

 

At first Hermione felt so odd amongst this very strange collection of men, but somehow after a few drinks, she forget that it had ever been weird in the first place. 

 

On several occasions Draco and her shared lingering glances and she would feel a familiar blush climb up her neck. 

 

They were just deciding if they should do just one more bottle when suddenly Theo and Blaise cut the laughter short and sat up straight. A ribbon of tension settling between the pair. 

 

Hermione was confused as she looked over her shoulder to see the younger Lady Malfoy approaching the table. 

 

She was wearing expensive robes with a giant diamond necklace that almost resembled costume jewelry it was so intricate, but Hermione knew it wasn’t. Her golden hair was done in loose waves with one side pinned back with a diamond pin. 

 

She looked stunning. Stunning and… unamused. Her mouth was drawn into a pucker and one perfectly manicured eyebrow was lifted high onto her forehead. 

 

Draco looked at the three of them, unaware of his wife quickly approaching and made some jab at them that she didn’t hear. 

 

Well she  _ couldn’t _ hear. 

 

She couldn’t hear because the buzzing in her ears from the adrenaline was so intense that it felt like someone had injected a vial straight into her veins. 

 

Finally, after so long that it was becoming painful, Draco looked over his shoulder. It was a frantic darting of eyes then as he panicked and looked at Hermione and she looked at Blaise and Blaise stared back at her wide eyes. 

 

“Draco, dear,” Astoria said sweetly, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. 

 

“Astoria,” he drawled and grit his teeth, “What are you doing here?” he tried for more casual. 

 

“Well, I was just up the road for my weekly girls dinner and ran into Tracy. She said she’d been here for drinks and saw you all and I just had to stop in and see for myself. Hello, Hermione,” she nodded politely. 

 

Hermione coughed at the simple greeting, choking violently on her Champagne. Theo moved to tap her on the back and Blaise spat out the champagne in his mouth, laughing hysterically. 

 

“Sorry, wrong pipe,” she continued coughing and wiping at her mouth like a savage. 

 

“Wrong pipe?” Astoria made a face. Not a mean one…. Just a,  _ ‘whatinthebloodyhellareyoutalkingabou _ t’ kind of face. 

 

“Muggle phrase, I guess,” she winced. 

 

“Ah,” Astoria nodded politely, “Anyhow, I was just popping in to see if you aren’t done with your…” she eyed the bottles of champagne and empty whiskey glasses disdainfully, “Work meeting? I thought you might escort me home.” 

 

Draco closed his eyes and licked his lips. He looked as if he were trying to focus and channel his energy somewhere. 

 

“Of course,” he finally breathed, “What kind of gentlemen could refuse?” he seemed to be genuinely asking, “Charge it to the business account,” he nodded at Theo who seemed so confused that Hermione almost just blurted out the whole sordid history to make it easier on the poor bloke. 

 

Draco stood and gestured that Astoria lead the way and followed her out. He stopped only once to look over his shoulder at Hermione and she quickly averted her eyes. 

 

Blaise burst out into laughter again and lifted a finger to the waitress for another bottle whilst Hermione buried her face into her hands and groaned. 

 

“Is someone going to tell me why in the hell that was just so awkward?”

 

“NO!” she shouted before Blaise could say another word and Blaise rolled his head back in laughter yet again. 

 

\-----

 

The next day she walked into her office feeling only slightly fuzzy around the edges. She had taken some potions that morning to control the raging hangover, but they only dulled the ache. She still had a bit of nausea after only picking at some appetizers the boys had deemed suitable for dinner last night and what she desperately needed was a nap and a cheeseburger. 

 

She would get neither. 

 

As she pushed open the door, she was shocked to see a flash of red hair in her guest chair. 

 

Ginny abruptly stood, looking frazzled and twitchy. 

 

“Ginny? Is everything ok?”

 

“Yes, of course!” she rushed out, “I mean… no. No, it’s not.” 

 

She sat down again and Hermione noticed a few tears roll down her cheek. 

 

“Ginny… you’re scaring me. What in Merlin’s name has happened?”

 

“I… th-think I-I-I’m…”

 

“Yes, spit it out!”

 

“PREGNANT,” and at that word she sobbed. 

 

Hermione let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She was worried someone had died or Ginny was sick. This was… unexpected, but fine. Her and Harry were meant to be. 

 

“Ginny..” she cooed, “You’ll be just fine! You’ll see! A baby is a wonderful blessing. Think of your mum.” 

 

Ginny wailed louder and Hermione winced. She grabbed her wand and cast a silencing spell on the room. 

 

“Hush now, we will figure this out,” Hermione laid a hand on her friend’s back trying to comfort her, “Does Harry know?” 

 

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! Are you barking mad? He’ll kill me!” 

 

“What?! Harry will be thrilled!” she laughed. 

 

“It’s not the right time is all… he’s just moved up from Junior Auror, his hours are insane. I’m finally taking off in Pro Quidditch, they’ve got me actually playing… not just subbing! Oh, I’m going to have to quit,” she cried, “I can’t believe we were so reckless!”

 

Hermione sighed, still not quite sure this situation called for quite so many theatrics. She resolved to just be supportive. No matter what. 

 

“How can I help?”

 

“Well, I’m on my way to the Healer actually… I did a spell at home but I’m not telling Harry a thing until they’ve confirmed. Would you… come with me?” she pleaded with giant blue eyes. 

 

Hermione groaned, thinking of her workload and her hangover and the emotional ginger that would be accompanying her. 

 

“Of course,” she smiled at her weeping friend, “Let me tell Beatrice I need to take a personal morning.” 

 

\-----

 

Ginny had arrived to the Women’s Health and Birth Healer 10 minutes late since she had detoured to the Ministry to beg Hermione to tag along. 

 

They sat in tense silence with Ginny whimpering every 30 seconds before they were abruptly whisked back to an exam room. Hermione turned her back as Ginny de-robed from the waist down and sat on an exam table with crunchy paper under her bottom. 

 

“HERMIONE!” she yelped. 

 

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, “What?!”

 

“I’ve left my bag! Oh, I’m so frazzled. Can you run out to the lobby?”

 

“Yes, of course,” she breathed,  “You need to take something for your anxiety,” she poked at her playfully, “You’re going to turn me gray over a bag. I’ll be right back,” Hermione rolled her eyes and strode down the hallway towards the lobby. 

 

Ginny’s bag was slumped next to the chair leg she had been sitting on and Hermione snatched it up and turned back towards her friend. As she rounded the corner, an exam room opened and she gasped as Astoria Greengrass exited and turned quickly to shake hands with the Healer. 

 

She hadn’t noticed her. 

 

“I’d say, all things look perfectly, Missus Malfoy,” the older healer boasted, “I look forward to seeing you very soon,” the healer turned to return into the exam room but paused and said, “And, hey! Congratulations! There will be a new little Malfoy before know it!”

 

Hermione let out a burst of air as though the healer had just walked up and punched her in her diaphragm. Her hand shot up to rest on the wall as her already wobbly sense of balance waivered beneath her. 

 

Pregnant. 

 

Astoria Malfoy was  _ pregnant. _

 

Astoria turned then and her eyes fell on Hermione, who probably looked as though she was having a fit of some sort. Hermione’s breaths were ragged and short and she didn’t have the strength to put on a facade for this woman. 

 

Astoria lifted her nose a little higher and gave Hermione a polite nod as she walked past. 

 

Once she was out of sight, Hermione slumped to the floor, her back sliding against the wall. 

 

She stayed there for awhile. Remembering how to breath again. 

 

Until the healer walked into Ginny’s room and Hermione gathered all the courage she could to just put one foot in front of the other. 

 

She would be there for friend. 

 

And she was. She held Ginny’s hand during the exam and bit back a yelp as Ginny clenched her hand so tightly she thought her bones might snap. She then held her friend after the doctor confided that she was indeed pregnant and Ginny confessed she wasn’t sure if they were happy or sad tears. 

 

She put everything that had been happening with Malfoy so far in the back of her mind that it was just a mere prickle of uncomfortableness back there. It was less than the hangover. She could bear it if it were tucked that far back. 

 

Ginny was in no shape to apparate and she begged Hermione to help her home. Hermione had agreed, still having a few hours left until lunch when she was due back. 

 

They arrived with a POP outside the Burrow and immediately their guard was up. There was a swell of noise from inside the house and they shared a quick panicked look before rushing into the back door. 

  
They could hear Molly crying loudly and they searched until they found her just in the front room. 

 

She was standing up on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around her second oldest son. He was patting her back and laughing, trying to calm her down and she would start crying again every time he tried. 

 

“You’re home! You’re home!” she rocked the pair of them. Charlie’s ice blue eyes tilted up to Hermione and smiled, “Why didn’t you tell me!”

 

Molly released him and slapped him rather hard on his broad shoulder and he playfully faked an injury. 

 

“Charlie!” Ginny cried and ran into her brother’s arms, “We’ve missed you,” she squeezed him tightly to her. Hermione watched as Charlie stared curiously at his only sister as she only weeped. He had no idea that she was crying for such life altering reasons. 

 

“Um, so I’ve heard,” he laughed and set her down. 

 

“How long are you here for?” Ginny asked, all her dramatic wailing trailing behind her. 

 

“Open ended,” his eyes flicked to Hermione. 

 

“Oh, I’ve got to run and grab your father! He’s going to lose his mind,” Molly through her hands in the air and turned towards the den, “Ginny, contact the rest of your brothers and Fleur and Harry, of course. And oh, yes Hermione you too dear! Dinner tonight! We are going to celebrate!” 

 

Molly looked the happiest Hermione could remember seeing her and Hermione brought her fingers up to her mouth to hide her giggle. 

 

Ginny rushed off and Charlie was left with Hermione. Somehow, he seemed to take up all the room. He seemed too large for the Burrow and she wondered if that’s why he was living half a world away. 

 

“You’re home,” she blushed. 

 

“Aye,” he walked up towards her, “You told me I should come. I came.”

 

“That simple? You shouldn’t let me boss you around so,” a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She forgot how simple it was to be in Charlie’s presence. No marriage contracts and blood oaths. No pregnant wives and snarky friends. 

 

“Eh, could be worse,” he shrugged, “I’m actually here to help on your Dragon sanctuary. They were going to send Davidson, but I was able to get an override. Might have played up the family drama a bit,” he whispered. 

 

She giggled, “It’s really good to see you.”

 

“It’s good to see you,” his eyes tightened and he shoved his hands in his pockets, “Can I take you to dinner?” he asked bluntly. 

 

She thought about it for a moment before laughing to herself, “I have dinner plans.”

 

“Oh…”

 

“As do you. Your mother just invited the entire Weasley horde over to celebrate your arrival. She might flay you if you aren’t present.”

 

Charlie winced, “Good point,” he laughed, “Any night. Any night you are free in the foreseeable future.” 

 

Hermione bit her lip while she thought about it. She wasn’t known for making brilliant decisions after heartbreaks and lots of alcohol. Both of which she had suffered in the last 24 hours. 

 

“Ask me tomorrow. Ok?” she said coyly. 

 

“You got it,” Charlie grinned proudly, as if she’d already said yes. And, she supposed, by not saying no, she kind of had. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much happened in this chapter!! I considered taking some out and adding filler but it would have been forced and I hate forcing filler. So alas, just a lot of highly dramatic moments over the span of two days. 
> 
> What do you think about Charlie's return? Hermione finding out Astoria's news? Ginny's news? The picture of H?! 
> 
> TELL ME EVERYTHING and I promise I'll keep writing! 
> 
> Much love to my beta and sisterPuff, SweetLilBullet who saves this story every time I drive it into the ground lol


	11. Charlie

Hermione checked her appearance...again. Was she honestly expecting the reflection to change?

 

She was so nervous she couldn’t see straight and she was fidgeting and fussing over just about everything. 

 

Normally, she would have a drink to calm her nerves but she had promised herself she wouldn’t drink through her nerves tonight.

 

She was absolutely not going to get drunk and go home with Charlie Weasley. 

 

She was still celibate. Still not making decisions that had long lasting effects after alcohol. 

 

It’s just a bloody date, for crying out loud. She’d spent hours upon hours with Charlie Weasley. She could manage this. 

 

She sucked in a deep breath and turned slightly in the mirror to examine herself. 

 

The Autumn chill had crept in out of nowhere and so she had settled for a warmer look tonight. She wore a crimson knit dress that alone would be far too short for Hermione’s taste, but she paired it with black thick tights and ankle boots. She’d laid her winter cloak out on the chair, just waiting for a knock at the door. 

 

Then she had put it on, so she appeared ready. 

 

Then she had taken it off so she didn’t appear TOO ready…

 

She growled at herself and looked at the clock. He still wasn’t due for 7 more minutes and she paced nervously. The heel of her boot clicked against the wood floors and it drove her absolutely mad until she finally plopped down on the sofa and sat on her hands. 

 

Seconds after she did so, she heard a pop of apparition outside her flat and she sprung up again. It would take him about 3 minute to find her door. 

 

Well, she supposed it took  _ her _ 3 minutes to get to her door… but he had never been there before. So it could take upwards of--

 

**_Knock, knock, knock._ **

 

_ Bollocks.  _

 

_ Cloak on or off? On or off? _

 

Off, she decided quickly. It made her seem much more relaxed. 

 

Although, how could she emanate anything  _ except _ relaxed when she was sure her hair had multiplied in size due to the anxiety of this fucking date. 

 

She sprung the door open too aggressively and plastered a giant smile on her face. 

 

“CHARLIE!” she exclaimed and then immediately groaned. 

 

“Hi, Hermione. What’s wrong?” he must have taken in her frantic appearance and grumblings. 

 

“I’m so bloody nervous, Charlie,” she wretched herself from the door and wrung her hands red. 

 

Charlie laughed and stepped in. He wasn’t over dressed in the slightest but he looked… well, bloody brilliant, if she was being honest. 

 

He had on these rugged khaki pants that she assumed were what he considered his ‘nice pair of trousers’ as well as a red and black flannel. Despite the chill, he didn’t have a cloak and she wondered idly if he owned one. 

 

“Are you alright?” he laughed again. 

 

“I haven’t done this in awhile,” she blurted out quickly. 

 

“Hermione, we had dinner a few weeks ago,” he offered her as a lifeline. 

 

“Yea, I mean, sure. But not really,” she was confusing herself, “It wasn’t a date though.”

 

“Well, surely it can’t have been that long. You said… well you alluded to… some situations… with men,” he grimaced as he spoke, clearly as uncomfortable as she was. 

 

“Not like this!” she argued, “I don’t know how.”

 

“How to what,” he chuckled. 

 

“How to be normal!” 

 

He walked quickly to her and placed his hands on her upper arms and breathed in, he held it for a few seconds and then exhaled. He did it again and she copied him the second time. 

 

She smiled. He knew her trick. 

 

“It’s just me. We rode Dragons together and saved babies. We ate a dozen meals together in the span of a week… and I’ve already seen you in your knickers,” he smirked at her. 

 

“Charlie Weasley! No you have not!” she cried. 

 

“Oh yes, I can assure you I have! Unless you happened to be wearing a bathing suit under your clothes when we went swimming in the lake,” he raised his eyebrows playfully and she couldn’t help but throw her head back in laughter. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him then, “I guess you’re right. You’ve  _ technically _ seen me in my knickers.”

 

“I heard you, Hermione. When you said you wanted to take things slow,” he said so low it was almost a whisper, “I can do slow. I can do glacial, Hermione. I just want to get to know you.” 

 

She sucked in a breath and bit down on her lip, “Ok. It’s not you, I promise. I’m just terrified of this entire process.” 

 

“It’s just dinner. If you hate me after, I’ll go home to Romania tomorrow and tell my mum that Hermione Granger broke my heart,” he grinned and she gasped, taking a moment to realize he was just ribbing her. 

 

“Ok, dinner,” she hid her smile, “For Molly’s sake.”

 

“For Molly,” he smiled back at her and she grabbed the cloak that she had already grabbed a dozen times and placed it on her shoulders. 

 

\-----

 

Hermione palms slapped against the dinner table as she laughed at Charlie’s impersonation of Flitwick, who she would have never imagined being funny until this moment.

 

She had finished her one drink and found that Charlie’s easy company kept her from wanting a second. 

 

They had travelled all the way to Hogsmeade. Hermione was so confused as they’d arrived, but indeed, a small restaurant had opened up there. 

 

They sat on the back patio that overlooked the silhouette of Hogwarts and Hermione constantly found herself staring back at her alma mater. She didn’t know if she’d ever walk those halls again but she certainly hoped she would. 

  
  


Charlie smiled at her. He talked about the Dragons, about the babies and Annie. He talked about the Welch Green they just released into the wild and how it felt as he watched her take to the skies. 

 

Before long, their plates were cleared and she was leaning her elbow on the table between them and listening in rapturous wonderment as he talked wildly with his hands about his days at Hogwarts. 

 

She hadn’t realized but he’d been a Seeker as well. He’d also been a prefect and while listening to him talk about his time during school, Hermione felt a pang of jealousy. 

 

He hadn’t had to deal with any trolls or dementors. He had never had War or Voldemort on his mind. He had been able to enjoy his childhood and education and then went on to have a thriving career… which got her to thinking. 

 

“Charlie Weasley, just how old are you?”

 

“Well, how old do I look?” his thumb rubbed his pint glass which was near empty. The waitress came round and asked if they’d like another round, to which he responded yes. 

 

“Well, I know Ron is just my age… and the twins were two years older than he, and Percy was, what? Two years older than them? You must be at least two, if not three…”

 

“I’m 29… I don’t want your brain to burst from Weasley family tree math,” he smiled and took the last gulp of his beer as the waitress refreshed their drinks. 

 

“Don’t you think I’m a bit young for you then?” she teased. 

 

“I think that if you were like any other 22 year old in the known universe, we wouldn’t be having this date. You, Hermione Granger, are one in a million,” he winked at her and brought his fresh pint glass to his lips. 

 

“Well, if you were like any other 29 year old in the universe, I wouldn’t be having this date either,” she giggled and his jaw dropped in faux horror. 

 

\-----

 

“I had a great time tonight, Hermione,” Charlie smiled at her bashfully. 

 

“I did too, Charlie, really. Thank you…” 

 

“I hope you know that me  _ not _ kissing you goodnight is in no way a reflection of my disinterest in you. Rather, it is because of my interest in you that I respec--”

 

Hermione cut him off by reaching up on to the tip of her toes and enveloping his bottom lip between the two of hers. It was soft, not hurried or frantic but it left a sweet flutter in her belly and he smiled against her kiss briefly before he returned it sweetly. 

 

She pulled back quickly when she realized how much she was enjoying the kiss. It felt like… like she was cheating. It was stupid and preposterous but it was how she felt. 

 

“Goodnight, Hermione,” he breathed against her lips and she felt her breath catch. 

 

“Night, Charlie.” 

 

He took a step back and apparated and she stared for a few long moments at the place he had just stood. 

 

She stepped into her flat, flying high on the emotion of a wonderful first date and as she closed the door, she turned and leaned against her front door, her back resting lightly. 

 

She felt a tug at her heartstrings that she couldn’t explain. She knew who was on the other end of those strings and it wasn’t the man who she’d just spent a beautiful evening with. 

 

\-----

 

She met Charlie again that week for lunch on Wednesday.

 

Then again for coffee Friday before work and Saturday evening they were sitting on opposite ends of Hermione’s couch, her feet clothed in thick red and gold striped socks and resting in his lap. 

 

His hand rested lightly on her shin and try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the casual touch. Over the edge of her book she kept peering at it. 

 

It seemed so… normal. 

 

It seemed like something a couple would do. 

 

She jumped and yelped as her Floo roared to life unexpectedly. 

 

Standing there with wide eyes and a knowing slope to her mouth was Ginny Weasley. 

 

Hermione sat up quickly, dragging her legs up from Charlie’s lap and bringing her knees up to her chest. 

 

“GINNY!” she exclaimed, her voice far too high. 

 

“My, my, my… What do I have here?” Ginny said with a high brow. 

 

“I can explain,” Hermione began but was silenced by the gentle raise of Ginny’s palm. 

 

“Brother, can you leave Hermione and I alone for a bit? Girl talk,” she smiled. 

 

Charlie rolled his eyes and sat up, closing his book. 

 

“You ok?” he looked at Hermione with soft eyes and she nodded. 

 

“I’ll see you Monday,” he leaned over and kissed her, thankfully, on the forehead. He stood and gave Ginny a meaningful look before exiting via Floo. 

 

Hermione sucked in a long deep breath and Ginny just looked at her. 

 

“Ginny… It’s not what you think. Not really…” she grimaced, waiting for Ginny’s wrath. 

 

“It’s fine, Hermione,” she filled the spot her brother had just taken by plopping on the couch and grabbing one of the cookies from the plate on the coffee table. 

 

“You… don’t care?” 

 

“ _ Of course _ I care. Charlie might be my favorite brother… that’s why I’m ok with it,” she shrugged. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, I’m not stupid. I knew there was pretty much a 50/50 chance of this happening when you were being sent to Romania. If I’m being honest?” Ginny looked up at her.

“Go on…”

 

“I’ll just say this once and be done with it… but, I think this is a mistake. I think you’re still in love with Draco Malfoy and you are trying so desperately NOT to be in love with him that you aren’t thinking clearly. I think you and Charlie would be bloody brilliant together,” she said honestly, “And one way or another, I’d love to have you as my legal sister in law… but only if it’s what you  _ really _ want.”

 

“If you think I’m in love with Malfoy, how on earth can you be ok with me seeing your brother? Aren’t you afraid I’m going to hurt him like I hurt Neville?”

 

Ginny smiled kindly at her friend, “You’d never intentionally hurt Charlie. I know you didn’t intentionally hurt Neville, either. And if Draco Malfoy wasn’t  _ married _ , I would say leave Charlie alone. But, Charlie might just need you as much as you need him.” 

 

“What’s that mean?”

 

“I don’t know… sometimes, I feel like I don’t even really know him. But he’s been floating away for so long, it’d be nice to have someone that brought him back. Just be careful with each other, yea?”

 

“Yea, ok, Gin.”

 

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked softly, not sure if they were openly discussing the pregnancy. 

 

Ginny shrugged, “Tired. Cranky. Somehow, I’m nauseous and starving? So that’s been fun…” 

 

“Have you told Harry?”

 

Ginny shook her head shamefully, “Not yet… soon. Just… not yet.”

 

“What are you waiting for?” Hermione pressed, still speaking quietly as to not scare her from the conversation. Ginny was quick to speak about many things, but her feelings was not one of them. She always had this thick shell up around her but behind was a cavern of mysteries. 

 

Ginny let out a wry laugh, “I think I’m waiting to figure out how I feel about it first,” her shoulders lifted and fell slowly. 

 

“Okay,” Hermione pressed her lips into a flat line. 

 

“Yea… Okay,” there was a long beat of silence, “So… we never talked about it. How’s Draco in bed?”

 

“GINNY!” Hermione screamed and pushed her feet at her playfully. 

 

“Well, I’m not about to ask about Charlie!”

 

“I haven’t slept with Charlie,” Hermione said seriously “and I don’t intend to… not unless I’m sure. I wouldn’t do that to him.” 

 

“Thank you…” Ginny said seriously, “So then, go ahead…”

 

“Go ahead?” Hermione asked curiously. 

 

“Yea, how was Draco Malfoy? Because I heard stories at Hogwarts and I’m not saying I haven't thought about it…”

 

“OH MY GOD! GINNY! You are horrible,” she tossed a pillow at Ginny’s head and they both burst into laughter together, Ginny just barely draping her hands over her tummy. 

  
  


\-----

 

Monday morning found Hermione and she couldn’t be more ready to jump back into work. 

 

Hermione approached her associates and broke down the things they needed to do in preparation for the the gala that weekend. All their duties seemed at times trivial, but they were necessary nonetheless. 

 

She turned to head towards her desk and leaning against her door frame was Charlie Weasley. 

 

She gave him a smile and strolled past him towards her desk. 

 

“What?” he grinned. 

 

“This might not be a good idea, Charlie…” she breathed, “Ginny doesn’t seem cross...I can’t even imagine what Ron--” 

 

“I told Ron yesterday,” he interrupted. He rounded it and leaned his backside against it so that his broad shoulder was just a breath away from touching her. 

 

“You WHAT?!” she all but shrieked. 

 

His hand snaked around her waist and her breath caught at the touch of his hand on her hip. 

 

“It’s OK. He’s Ok,” he reassured her, “I explained that I had started to fancy you in Romania and that I had asked you on a date. He was perfectly RON about about it, dragged me a bit and then we were able to discuss it more evenly. He told me, in no uncertain terms that I am not to harm you, misuse you or betray your trust in any way. Easy guidelines, as I had no intention of those anyhow,” he grinned and his grasp on her hip tightened in a playful way. 

 

She bit her bottom lip and nudged him with her elbow, letting out an exhale, his hand still wrapped around her hip bone. 

 

“You shouldn’t have talked to him without me. He’s my best friend,” she argued. 

 

“You  _ do  _ realize he’s my brother, right?”

 

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes and placed a soft, casual kiss on his lips. 

 

A throat cleared and she jumped.

 

In her doorway were her three business partners, although, only one of them seemed to have eyes narrowed into slits. 

 

Charlie realized they had company and pushed off the desk. As he did so, Hermione took full stock of his arse. She hadn’t meant to look but once she did, she couldn’t tear her eyes away until she heard Blaise clear his throat. 

 

“Eh hem!” she replied, for no good reason. 

 

“We have a 10:00, Granger,” Draco practically hissed. 

 

“Theo, Blaise...Draco, this is Charlie Weasley. He’s been brought in as our liaison with the Romanian Sanctuary,” she smiled tightly, a blush still staining her cheeks. 

 

“Glad to see you’re giving him the first class treatment, Granger,” Malfoy spat, “Conference room - 5 minutes.” 

 

The trio turned to walk away but only Blaise turned to give her a waggle of the eyebrows. She remained cool as she tried to prepare Charlie for the meeting. 

 

\-----

 

Charlie was invaluable to the cause and the conference room meeting had only exemplified that. He weighed in on almost every matter and fine tuned each detail. Hermione felt herself smile at his victory and even though he seemed so out of sorts here at the ministry, with his rugged, devil may care aesthetic, she knew he was actually more than qualified. 

 

Draco argued immaturely at every chance he got but Charlie, not knowing the underlying issue, was calm and collected. He explained everything fully and with overwhelming confidence.

 

The meeting began to draw to a close and the associates straggled out. 

 

Blaise and Draco were at the front of the room in a deep conversation and Hermione was pointing out the various pro’s of having a Dragon Sanctuary here in the UK. 

 

“You could even transfer back,” she said brightly, “Molly would be so happy!”

 

“Oh… Molly would?” Charlie grinned and reached his hand out to squeeze her knee. It was intimate and while at first, she didn’t mind in the slightest… she realized who was in the room. The last thing she wanted was to put Charlie in Draco’s face… but here he was… in his face. 

 

Hermione gave him an awkward smile.

 

“Granger!” Blaise shouted from the front of the room, “Did you hear back about the delegates from Southern Europe? They’ll be at Dragonheart this weekend?” he said casually. 

 

“Yes,” she supplied, feeling all at once uncomfortable, “They’ll be there.” 

 

“Dragonheart?”

 

“The name of the project but also the name of the fundraising Gala.”

 

“Why does the term  _ Gala _ seem so unbelievably pretentious?”

 

“Not everything can be a Weasley buffet dinner,” Draco responded acidicly. 

 

She glared over her shoulder at Draco who was now being nasty for no reason and then turned back to Charlie,  “The Gala is this weekend. Do you want to come with me?”

 

She paused when she took in his amused face. 

 

“Love to be your plus one, Hermione. Should I get a tux?”

 

“Yes,” she laughed, “Khaki’s might not get you in the door.”

 

She smiled up at Charlie and ignored the daggers being thrown at her back. 

 

\----

 

At the end of the day, Hermione was beat. It had been a long day of meetings and preparing for the Gala that weekend. While she wasn’t particularly involved with the planning there were a lot of strings behind the scene that needed to be tended to. 

 

She leaned against the side of the lift as soon as she walked in, taking the weight off her right foot for a few seconds and then alternating to her left. 

 

The door began to close automatically but before it could, a pale hand shot out and halted its course. 

 

She sucked in a sharp breath and stood up straight. 

 

He walked directly to the back of the lift, not saying a word. 

 

As the doors closed she could hear and feel him shift. Suddenly he was right behind her, his breath moving the curls near her ear. 

 

“Charlie Weasley?” he purred, “Really? You could do better.”

 

She smiled, despite herself. Her heart was pounding frantically and she could feel every nerve vibrating beneath her skin. 

 

“It’s really not any of your business,” she said tartly. 

 

“What if… I want it to be my business?” 

 

The question sent shivers down her spine and she remembered the way he would sometimes nip at her bottom lip to get her to gasp so he could dip his tongue into her mouth. How his hands had this way of forging a path that made her feel completely worshipped. 

 

The elevator dinged and she stepped off briskly, putting as much space as she could between her and the dangerous Slytherin behind her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE:
> 
> Lots and lots of Charlie this chapter! I know we are pretty divided on our feelings for him... so I'm hoping that I won't isolate half of you by this chapter alone. 
> 
> I've had so many people bring up Astoria's interaction at the clinic... at least ONE of you correctly theorized what happened! Don't worry, everything has meticulously planned and written for at least another 15 chapters. There will be heartbreak and happiness and so much good stuff in between!
> 
> That being said, thoughts on Charlie? 
> 
> I know many of you been begging to see Draco suffer... hold your horses, y'all. Jealous Draco is about to rear his beautiful head.   
>  
> 
> Forever thanks to SweetLilBullet for all your wonderful help with this story.


	12. Astoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reviews get me through the day! I love hearing all your ideas and if I'm not responding to your comments, just know it's because it's impossible to not spoil some aspects of this story!

_ She grabbed the nearest floppy hat on display and shoved it on her head.  _

 

_ “How’s it look?” she joked, making a kissy face.  _

 

_ “You’re beautiful,” he said simply.  _

 

_ She rolled her eyes and placed the hat back on the shelf. Almost immediately she felt his arms wrap around her and she rested her head back into him.  _

 

_ “You’re beautiful,” he repeated into her curls.  _

 

_ \----- _

 

“Hermione?” Susan interrupted her thoughts, “Mrs. Malfoy is here to see you.” 

 

She said it brightly, like there was no reason to be alarmed.

 

Could she not hear the the alarm bells going off in Hermione’s head? Neither Mrs. Malfoy would be cause for celebration.  

 

“Did she make an appointment?” Hermione rushed quickly and Susan’s face pinched. 

 

“No, she just stopped by. She was wondering if you had a minute and I didn’t see anything on your schedule til after lunch,” she explained, “Is that alright?”

 

She started fiddling with the paperwork in front of her and cracking her knuckles nervously, “Yes, of course. Send her in.”

 

What in the world? There was absolutely no reason for either Mrs. Malfoy to be casually dropping by Hermione Granger’s office. Her stomach tore itself into shreds and then tied themselves into perfect little knots. 

 

“Miss Granger?” the familiar young voice clipped. 

 

Hermione gulped. She held it for exactly 4 seconds and then released. It was  _ not _ Narcissa Malfoy in her doorway. 

 

It was Draco’s wife. 

 

“Miss-” she faltered, “I’m, I mean… Missus… Missus Malfoy,” she smiled too brightly. 

 

Hermione waved at the chair in front of her and then sat back in her own, feeling horribly uncomfortable. It felt like someone had dumped static electricity into the room. Everything felt alive with fresh tension and it prickled against her skin like an unwanted kiss. 

 

“I’ll get straight to it, Miss Granger,” Astoria tilted her chin up but Hermione saw her jaw shake ever so slightly. She always appeared so completely in control and now she could see the frayed edges of Astoria Greengrass, “I would like my husband back.”

 

“I’m sure I don’t--” Hermione rushed but Astoria ceased her with a wave of her hand. 

 

Astoria took a deep breath in and then sighed, “I imagine in your version of this story, I’m the villain. Am I right?” she stared down at her gloved hands, playing with a loose bit of thread, “I imagine I am. This Pureblood witch who came and stole Draco away. Who gets to live in this giant house and have his babies and… well, I get to love the man you love. I can only imagine how you must feel about me.” 

 

Astoria glanced up then and Hermione could see her red rimmed eyes about to overflow with tears. She was biting at her lip so hard that Hermione thought she might be trying to distract herself with pain. 

 

She crossed her leg demurely at her ankle and fussed with her hair, a lone tear leading the way down her perfect face. 

 

“Did you know I was in love? Madly, actually. With a pureblood who didn’t have a marriage contract and was ready to take me to be his wife. We almost eloped,” she laughed to herself, “But, we didn’t. We didn’t and I stayed and now… I’m Missus Malfoy,” she huffed out a breath of air and wiped at the tears falling, “If I hadn’t, Draco’s inheritance would be gone. Narcissa would have suffered… she’s been like an Aunt to me in my childhood. I wasn’t close with Draco growing up, I was a bit younger and a girl. But I saw him around and he was friendly enough. Not like Crabbe or Goyle who tortured me and my sister. Draco always had a bit of a nonchalance about us Greengrass girls. But I’ve known Narcissa, loved her, even. She’s been a dear friend of my mothers... I forfeited a lot here too. Maybe you and Draco forget that.”

 

“Astoria… are you ok? Is there something I can get for you? Tea?”

 

“I get it,” she snapped and Hermione jumped in her seat, “I’m not stupid. I might not be the most brilliant little witch Hogwarts ever saw, but I’m not exactly a barn cat. Draco came home and he told me all about you. He begged for a way out and my heart pained for him. I tried my best to help him and as we suspected, there was no way out. So, I put on my white dress and marched down the aisle. I got him a big fat inheritance, saved his mother, and gave up my family name,” she shook her head in disbelief, “Lady Malfoy. One of the longest lines of Pureblood magic… and jealous of a Muggleborn.

 

You see, he has you on this pedestal. This pedestal that’s so high, I merely exist in your shadow. I’m terrified of your memory and all the ways that it’s going to haunt me and my family for the rest of my life.”

 

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again but she snapped it shut as the usually well kept and perfectly collected Astoria Malfoy wept. 

 

“I know I’m the villain in your version of this story,” she repeated, “But… can you imagine, just for a moment, that you might be the villain in mine?” Astoria made a sad, crumpled kind of face and looked at her lap, “I am stuck in a loveless marriage with a man who is allowed to walk out the front door and fuck whoever he wants.” 

 

Hermione flinched when she cursed, finding that it felt so severe on the lips of this small witch. 

“I live by some archaic set of rules that are so…” her voice trailed off and she swallowed tightly, “I can’t even critique my mother in law over linen choices, lest she decide that I have insulted her and give her son all the reason he needs to divorce me,” she laughed dryly, “A divorcee by 21. I’m sure you can imagine how well my prospects might look in the future. Not that Narcissa would do that, of course… but… it doesn’t matter.”

 

Astoria wiped the final tears from her cheeks and sat up straight but the reminders of her sadness were still plastered all over her face. 

 

“You represent choice, Hermione Granger. A choice my husband will never get to have. I’d like to learn to love this man and have a marriage I can be proud of. Generations of Purebloods have done so before us and I know we can too. But I can’t while you’re still consuming his every thought.”

 

“Astoria… I am not in anyway trying to interfere with your marriage--”

 

“Don’t,” Astoria’s green eyes flashed dangerously, “Don’t. It’s insulting. I am simply asking…” she gulped thickly, like there was a snitch in her mouth she was trying to work down her throat, “I’m begging. Give him back to me. Leave my marriage and my husband alone.”

 

Her bottom lip was quivering and Hermione could see her chest rising and falling in jagged breaths. 

 

Hermione opened her mouth to defend herself but then snapped it shut and instead, simply nodded. 

 

Astoria didn’t say another word. She rose elegantly and her robes swirled around her as she made far too grand an exit for the space she was in. 

 

\-----

 

Hermione felt off the rest of the day. Her mind revisiting the conversation with Astoria and every conversation with Draco for the past several months. 

 

She wasn’t leading him on. She wasn’t tempting him or fate or their marriage… She had tried so very hard to distance herself from him. When that wasn’t possible, she kept everything as business like as possible, she reassured herself. 

 

But then her mind filled with their kiss in the alley and his fingers grazing the back of her neck as he helped her with her cloak. When she reached for him at dinner and he opened his hand to her like it was the most ordinary thing in the world and his thumb brushed the back of her hand once...twice. 

 

She groaned loudly. She wasn’t an innocent in all this.

 

She had coveted Astoria’s husband...and often. She had blushed and smiled at him. She had flirted. 

 

She had somehow convinced herself that it wasn’t so bad because Draco didn’t love Astoria… but she never thought about Astoria. 

 

Astoria who was a real life person, with feelings and hopes and dreams. Who had she become that she could so easily forget about a whole person like that. She had replaced her in the abstract, she had made her evil and a thief of Hermione’s joy. 

 

They had both taken from each other and they had done so without evil intent. 

 

It was now past the point of him  _ just _ being married, as if that weren’t enough. Astoria was pregnant. 

 

They would give their proposal Thursday to the MEU and the gala Saturday. After that, she would cut all ties. It was officially time to move on. To do the worst thing Hermione ever thought she could do… to give up hope. 

 

\-----

 

The next few days were a frenzy of meetings and paperwork. She found herself in the presence of Draco more times than she would like and she could sense that he knew something was going on. 

 

His silver eyes would linger on her or he would brush against her as they talked and then stare at her face for a hint but she remained stoic. Stepping back and away, distancing herself in body and heart. 

 

Charlie was there and present in all the ways Hermione so desperately wanted to want. But she found that she couldn’t give him any of her right now. 

 

He had asked if she was ok and she responded that she was just overwhelmed with the project. 

 

She could feel herself slipping into a dark place. A place similar to the mind space she was in when she left for Paris. She felt, at the time, that detaching from everyone was her only way to survive what she’d been through. 

 

\-----

 

Thursday morning found Hermione quickly, she glanced at her clock not remembering falling asleep. 

 

She readied herself in her best robes, taking the time to apply some potions and charms to her hair and brush some mascara on her lashes. It was an important day. 

 

A Floo had been opened for her directly to the lobby of the Magical European Union and as she stepped out into the grand atrium her breath left her. 

 

Everything was ceiling to floor of white and gold inlet marble. The room was a giant circle with a large fountain spilling out crystal clear water from a simple spout. Her heels clicked sharply against the stone and echoed throughout the spectacular room.

 

At this time of day at the Ministry it would be shoulder to shoulder of employees trying to make their way to the various lifts. Here, she was completely alone. 

 

The Floo she had just come through roared to life and she yelped and turned quickly. In quick succession the three men of Malfoy Consulting came strolling out. 

 

She smiled tightly at them, her nerves overwhelming her. 

 

“Granger,” Blaise walked up and wrapped his arm loosely around her shoulders, breaking the tension as she shoved an elbow in his ribs and he winced in faux injury, “Ready for today?”

 

“I don’t know…” she replied honestly, “Weeks of hard work and it could all end here.” 

 

She chewed on her lip and rotated her weight from foot to foot. 

 

“Granger, we have the majority’s word they are onboard,” Draco said in a low comforting voice, “We’ll present the facts and it’ll be over before you know it.” 

 

He was looking at her with that intensity that once made her swoon and now made her feel like she was single handedly destroying the life of Astoria Greeng--, err, Malfoy. 

 

She nodded tightly and averted her eyes so she wasn’t looking at him. She was struggling to breathe as it was and the longer she stared at his face, the more her brain wanted to implode. 

 

They took a seat in front of the fountain, facing the grand doors to the auditorium they would be presenting in. Hermione sat between Draco and Blaise with Theo on the far side of Draco. They were going over the notes they had prepared, Theo and Draco in hushed voices gesturing at a massive report. Hermione was trying very hard to concentrate until Draco laughed uncharacteristically. It was a laugh she hadn’t heard since their time in Colombia and it took her breath away. 

 

Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she remembered finding a spot just on his inner thigh that made him squirm under her tickle. Until that moment she had constantly been at his mercy as he would poke and prod her tickle spots, which were far too many in her opinion. But now she found that she could press just here and he would lose all control.

 

“Granger,” Blaise hissed and she snapped from her reverie. 

 

“Hmm?” she looked up, slightly dazed. 

 

“Your boyfriend’s here. Is he supposed to be?”

 

Hermione’s brows drew together as she surveyed the room. There standing next to the Floo with a sheepish look on his face was Charlie Weasley. 

 

She stood quickly, leaving her files on the seat she had just vacated and ignoring Draco’s glare. The clicks of her heels feeling so much louder now that there was an audience. 

 

“Charlie?”

 

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just showed up,” he smiled out of the corner of his mouth and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I just wanted to stop by real quick and wish you good luck, I know you’ve been nervous.” 

 

Sweet. That was the word to describe Charlie, sweet. 

 

“Thank you,” she said earnestly, “That’s so thoughtful.” 

 

She reached up and planted a quick, kiss on his lips and he smiled when they parted. Charlie Weasley cared greatly for her and that was something important to be considered.

At times she wondered if this lack of passion meant that they weren't meant to be together, but there was more than passion in life. There was kindness, respect… loyalty. 

 

“Do you want to meet up tonight? To celebrate?” his eyebrows lifted hopefully. 

 

“We aren’t sure there’s anything yet to celebrate,” she grumbled quietly. 

 

“There will be,” he gripped the top of her arms softly and kissed her on the forehead, “I’ll let you get in there. I’ll see you at the Leaky at 6?”

 

She nodded and gave him a small smile. 

 

He disappeared in the Floo just minutes after arriving and she stared at it for a long moment before turning and returning to her team. 

 

“What’d he want?” Malfoy clipped, as she took her seat. 

 

She could hear the tone of his voice and gave him a face, “He was coming to wish me luck and check on me. He knew I’d been overwhelmed.”

 

“AWWWWW,” Blaise crooned loudly and then faked a gagging noise. 

 

“Oh hush,” she turned her face to Blaise, “You’re just jealous,” she replied jokingly. 

 

“Actually, I am,” Blaise said seriously, “Have you seen the massive muscle on that Weasel? It’s no wonder you moved on from Ron when you have that as an option. It looks like he eats Dragon’s instead of tames them. I could spend every waking moment working out and I’d never get that huge. It’s not in my genes… although, you could argue it’s not in his genes either, with all those other scraggly gingers in his family. Say, maybe I ought to have a chat with him about his workout regimen--”

 

Hermione laughed to herself, staring at her notes. 

 

“That’s enough,” snipped Draco. 

 

“Ahhh, Draco’s jealous too, see?” Blaise said easily and then his eyes flashed dangerously, “But I wonder, if it’s for the same reason?”

 

“I’ve nothing to be jealous over a Weasley for, thank you,” Hermione’s eyes tightened and rage flashed up in her chest. 

  
Blaise was watching her reaction carefully, “Nothing, mate? I can think of a couple things to be jealous of, if I were you.” 

 

Draco’s jaw set in a hard line.

 

“For instance he happens to be shagging one of the most beautiful and eligible witches in all of London--” Blaise pressed.

 

“BLAISE!” she screeched and swatted him with the papers in hand, but there was a laugh ghosting on her lips at his audacity. 

 

“I’m going to be sick,” Draco said dramatically. 

 

“What? Can’t stomach the idea of someone finding me attractive, Malfoy?” she asked in a clipped tone. 

 

“I think you know  _ very _ well that’s not the part I take issue with,” his eyes locked on hers and he smoldered with that passion that she had been missing. 

 

“Why do I always feel like I’m missing something with you lot? Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Theo whined. 

 

“No,” they all responded in unison and returned to their notes, a blush still kissing Hermione’s cheeks. 

 

A door slid open silently and a small wizard with gray hair stepped out into the Atrium. 

 

“Miss Granger? Mister Malfoy? They’re ready for you.” 

Hermione looked at the men next to her and rose to her feet. Her heart was frantic and she felt her hands shaking. 

 

Now or never. 

 

She led the three men into the large room and the door closed grandly behind them. 

 

\-----

 

Several hours later, the doors reopened and Slytherin’s were positively glowing. Blaise was taking turns playfully punching Theo and Draco in the ribs and smiling like a complete and utter fool while Draco and Hermione led the others out with stoic faces. 

 

“Why do you two look like you’ve just sucked a lemon? This is awesome news!”

 

“Awesome?! They’ve just given us a near impossible goal for Saturday. We’re fucked,” Hermione felt like crying and the curse just fell out of her mouth. 

 

“Impossible?” Blaise laughed, “It’s steep but it’s not that bad.”

 

“200,000 Galleons?!” she shrieked and flinched as it echoed around the room, “Not that bad? How in the hell are we going to raise that money? I was planning on maybe a quarter that!”

 

“It’ll be alright,” Draco said in a comforting tone, “Blaise, Theo and I will smooze the shit out of them. We will get a massive donation early on and announce it, make a huge deal of it and the donations will pour in.”

 

Hermione stomped towards the Floo and Draco rushed up to her and snagged her by the elbow. 

 

“Granger, trust me,” he whispered as he rounded on her and was facing her. 

 

“I’ve heard that before,” she narrowed her eyes and tried to pull her arm back, “We’re screwed and you guys are celebrating like we’ve won the World Cup!”

 

“We’ve been to these things before, alright? We’ll get them drunk, get them competitive and the money will follow. I won’t let this fall apart, I promise,” his brows hung low over his silver eyes and she was close enough that she could smell his aftershave...or was it his toothpaste. It reminded her of Spearmint and she shook her head. 

 

“BOYS! Miss Granger requires celebratory alcohol IMMEDIATELY!” Blaise grinned and shouted to his comrades. 

 

“I really can’t…”

 

Her mind drifted back to the dejected look of Astoria’s wife as she begged Hermione to give her husband back. 

 

“Non-negotiable,” Blaise said cheerfully, “We’ve been working our tails off for months and we are officially in the home stretch. It’s a cause for celebration!”

  
She hesitated but when she looked at Blaise, she saw a smidge of sincerity in his dark eyes. She bit back a smile and nodded, knowing that she shouldn’t but doing it anyway. 

 

The motto of her year, apparently. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys. The next two chapters are monsters full of drama and good times. Some of you will hate me, some of you will love me but I hope that will all continue to read and review! 
> 
> As usual, once I finish the next chapter, I will post the next! So please send me your good vibes! 
> 
> Thoughts on Astoria?? I have a beautiful fancast of her up on my Tumblr! If you care to see what she looks like in my head :)


	13. Drinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE:
> 
> Man! It's been a crazy few days! I had a couple reviews that bummed me out last week and just had me second guessing everything... then I read this chapter back and it was just... AWFUL! So please, give a huge shout out to SweetLilBullet who helped me gut it and save it! 
> 
> Also... my 30th birthday is this upcoming SUNDAY! My friends surprised me with a video FROM Tom Felton wishing me a happy birthday and calling me a filthy, filthy mud blood and needless to say... I AM SHOOKETH. 
> 
> I am working on the final chapter to this story. I am so sad it's ending... but I hope you guys will stick with me through to the end! (Unless you are a troll or a meanie, in which case, you can go lol) 
> 
> FINALLY, man this is the longest AN ever, I've gone back to add an even BIGGER disclaimer for everyone. But in case you have been here from the beginning and didn't catch it, "I INCLUDE DIRECT OR SLIGHTLY ALTERED QUOTES FROM GREY'S ANATOMY" My intention is in no way to plagiarize Shonda Rhimes. This story is heavily inspired by the Mer-Der-Finn love triangle and I worked it into the story purposefully. I will go back soon and add notes on every chapter that has a quote so I don't have to be accused of lecherous activity again :) 
> 
> Please enjoy!

  
  


It was funny how some things never changed, even if everything was different. She was at the Leaky Cauldron at a small round table near the back, surrounded by the three Slytherins that had somehow taken up all of her free time lately. 

 

They were arguing about the merits of different Quidditch teams and Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. Maybe it was her lot in life to be surrounded by men discussing a sport she didn’t give two figs about. 

 

She had somewhat zoned out and her eyes glazed over as she twirled her wine glass absently. Idly she attempted to get the perfect wine tornado going and it wasn’t until Blaise’s voice repeated over and over again that she woke up from her daydreaming. 

 

“GRANGERRR! Earth to Granger!!” Blaise waved his hands enthusiastically in front of her dazed face. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What were you thinking about?” he eyed her suspiciously.

 

“Nothing,” she smiled. 

 

“Hah! I bet it starts with Charlie, ends with Weasley,” Theo smirked at her, “From the girl who said she wasn’t starting anything serious because of her career…” 

 

She blushed but could feel that he was just ribbing her. 

 

“Charlie and I are not serious,” she gave Theo a reproachful look and avoided the daggers coming from the blond to her right. 

 

“Ok, tell me this, Granger,” Blaise leaned in on his elbow, “Who’s better in bed, Charlie or Ron?”

 

“BLAISE!” she couldn’t help but laugh as Malfoy faked a gag next to his friend. 

 

“A Weasley is a Weasley. Their entire bloodline has nothing to brag about,” Draco said indifferently and Hermione felt a surge of rage. 

 

“Oh come on, we won’t tell,” Blaise’s eyes were glazed with liquor, “Actually, nevermind. No way it could be Ron, what was I thinking. That ginger bitch couldn’t find his prick with a map, let alone use it with a witch,” Blaise laughed at his own joke and looked to his friends for reassurance, they gave none. Theo just rolled his eyes and Draco seemed completely unamused. 

 

Hermione has a rush of protectiveness for her dear friend. Her inhibitions were lowered and she turned up her nose at the trio, “Ron was perfectly adequate, thank you very much.”

 

“HAH!” the three of them each let out a big laugh and then began shaking violently with it. 

 

“What is so funny may I ask?”

 

“He’s tiny and shit in bed,” Theo said with a grin. 

 

“I just told you the very opposite!” she argued.

 

“Yea, adequate is  _ not _ how a man would like to be described…” Theo explained boastfully. 

 

“HERMIONE!” Blaise bursted into laughter, “What about Theo? We’ve always known he was probably a dud in the sack,” he grinned conspiratorially, “Hufflepuff.”

 

“NO!” she said firmly. 

 

“Go on, Hermione. Tell them,” Theo puffed up his chest and Hermione saw Draco’s hand flex around his glass. 

 

She rolled her eyes at them, “Theo, isn’t this rather private?” she chided. 

 

“Not when your an absolute stallion in the sack, such as myself,” Theo was so sure of himself and Hermione wasn’t sure if she should knock him down a peg or let him have his moment. 

 

Deciding that Theo had never been nothing but a complete gentleman and by far the most respectable of this lot, she threw him a bone. 

 

“It’s true. Theo is an absolute stallion,” she smiled into her wine glass as she took another swig. 

 

Blaise erupted into laughter, slamming his palms on the table as Theo grinned proudly. She only attempted to ignore the ice cold winds coming from Draco. 

 

“You’re incorrigible and should be imprisoned,” she announced to Blaise.

* * *

 

  
  


The longer that Hermione avoided eye contact or speaking directly to Draco, the more steely his demeanor became. She had agreed to stay away from him and she knew that was the right thing to do… even if it hurt her more than she could possibly imagine. 

 

She heard the bell over the front door chime and she turned automatically, brightening as she saw Charlie step in. He was dressed like a muggle, was her first thought. He had a tan canvas jacket on and a thick Gryffindor scarf his mother had probably knitted him wrapped around his neck. His hair was pushed back and his beard was filling out more and more each day as the Autumn chill settled in. 

 

She grinned and waved, standing as she did. 

 

“Well, thanks for the fun boys,” she smiled and pushed her empty glass towards the center of the table. 

 

“WHOA WHOA WHOA! You can’t ditch us for him,” Blaise shouted drunkenly, “WEASLEY!” he aggressively waved him over. 

 

Hermione’s heart started racing wildly as her eyes fell onto Draco; he was practically vibrating with anger. 

 

Charlie smiled at them politely and then turned to Hermione, “There she is,” he kissed her sweetly and laid a hand on her lower back, “You look beautiful.” 

 

She blushed. 

 

“I see you guys have gotten started celebrating,” he eyed the table full of drink glasses and a half empty bottle of Firewhisky, “Did you still want to have a drink or are you ready to call it a night?” Charlie asked kindly, but Hermione could sense a small fringe of annoyance. 

 

“Of course, I’d love to. This damage was not done by me,” she eyed Blaise, “Let’s grab a table.”

 

“Hogwash,” Blaise shouted, “Join us Weasley! It’s time we gave you the talk anyway,” Blaise waved his wand and a chair shot over from another table. 

 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” 

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Draco said stiffly and Hermione didn’t miss the way the word stupid sounded like an actual insult, “Have a seat.”

 

“Alright, then…” Charlie said tightly and pulled out the chair next to him so Hermione might sit and then sat down next to her, draping an arm across the back of her chair casually and crossing his ankle over his knee. 

 

“Say, Weasel… I mean, Weasley,” Blaise said purposefully; Charlie’s jaw clicked but his eyes were calm and stayed on Hermione, “Tell me about your workout regimen.” 

 

Hermione choked on her water, laughing and beating her chest with her palm. 

 

“Hermione!” Charlie exclaimed and started rubbing Hermione’s back. 

 

“I just mean, the rest of your family, they’re rather tall and skinny. You’re clearly tall but  _ not _ skinny… what do you do? High protein? How often are you lifting?”

 

Charlie made eyes at Hermione, like they were in on a private joke. As the coughing died down he started rubbing lazy circles with his thumb along her spine. It gave her goosebumps and reminded her so much of Draco that it pained deep in her belly. 

 

“I workout about 5 days a week, sometimes I use weights but mostly I just do weight resistance. Also, the triplets aren’t light,” he flashed a grin at her. 

 

“Triplets, eh?” Blaise raised his brows goofily, hoping for something good. 

 

“Oh… sorry, baby dragons. Triplets that Hermione and I saved near the border. The rest of the lot we were able to return to their mothers but these three are with us in Romania for now.”

 

“They must be huge now,” Hermione turned her knees towards him. 

 

“They are getting there. Although still far, far smaller than they will be by adulthood.”

 

“How long until then?” she asked curiously. 

 

“Maybe two years? But they’ll be huge by next summer. Jean is definitely coming up as the Alpha, which I’m not surprised by at all, given her namesake…” he smiled out of the side of his mouth. 

 

“Jean?” she gasped. 

 

“Well, of course, we named the girl dragon after you. You remember her, the one with the lavender scales?”

 

“Charlie!” she was so blown away by the thoughtful gesture that she couldn’t form a complete sentence. She temporarily forgot their company and leaned in to kiss him quickly, when she attempted to pull back he caught her neck with his hand and pulled her close again for another kiss.

 

She heard a disgruntled groan and could only guess who from. 

 

The kiss ended sweetly and she blushed furiously, staring at her lap as Charlie stared at her like she was the beginning and end of everything. 

 

“Surely the Dragon Sanctuary is falling apart with someone as knowledgeable as yourself?” Draco ran his tongue over this teeth and tilted his head condescendingly. 

 

“Seems they are managing just fine for the time being,” Charlie’s eyes tightened as he spoke to Draco, perhaps his instincts were warning him of a threat. 

 

“Well, aren’t we lucky that they could spare such an integral cog in the Dragon babysitting arena. When are you heading back?”

 

“Open ended,” Charlie said quickly, leaning back. 

 

“Convenient.”

 

“Lucky’s more like it. Lucky my job sent me somewhere where I can spend a little more time with this beautiful girl here and still allow me to do what I love. I’ll be sad if it ends,” Charlie reached over and gripped Hermione’s fingers and brought them up to his lips, brushing them gently. 

 

She blushed, but not for the reason she should. It wasn’t because of the sweet gesture, but because she was embarrassed… It felt wrong in some way. 

 

“If?” Draco said tersely. 

 

“I plan on riding this until my luck runs out, mate,” Charlie gave that adorable crooked smile and Draco’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. 

 

“Well, here’s to sooner rather than later.”

 

Charlie’s eyes flashed dangerously for the briefest of moments but Blaise, saved the day. 

 

Blaise pushed a shot towards her and handed one to Charlie. 

 

“To Dragonheart,” Blaise lifted his own and they all followed suit.

* * *

 

  
  
  
  


After another couple hours, Hermione was delightfully buzzed, her worries far forgotten and she laughed easily in most of her company. She didn’t know why Draco was being such a difficult prat but she had quickly found an excuse and snuck away to sit at the bar with Charlie. 

 

Charlie sat dutifully next to her his arm draped around her chair. He would play with the ends of her curls or rub her neck softly. He was lovely in the simple ways that he showed her affection. 

 

“You’re one of the good ones, Charlie Weasley,” she didn’t notice Draco’s eyes on them and the way they boring into her, “You’re kind and sensitive. You save baby dragons and you love your family… you’re a good one,” she gushed over him. 

 

“Hah, you flatter me,” he gave her a sweet crooked smile, “but I’ll save a hundred baby dragons if it pleases you.”

 

“Do you remember when we went skinny dipping?” she said quickly.  

 

“Hard to forget,” he laughed and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and she leaned into his hand. 

 

“You took my breath away, you know?” she was speaking too much, the words falling out of her mouth and into existence but she couldn’t stop them if she tried, “Blaise was not exaggerating. You look nothing like the rest of your family, in that respect.”

 

“First of all, it’s you that was breathtaking, Hermione,” he leaned in and kissed her cheek sweetly, “Second, saying I look nothing like my goonie brothers is the best compliment you could give me. So I’ll thank you for that,” he grinned and she laughed, leaning her forehead on his shoulder, “Say, why is Malfoy throwing daggers my way? I know he’s a cranky git, but he seems especially riled up tonight.” 

 

Hermione turned to look over her shoulder at the boys’ table just a few feet away and truly, Draco looked infuriated. His jaw clenched and his eyes constantly flicking back and forth to them. 

 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she shrugged and then felt her heart pick up as she made eye contact with Draco. She ripped her eyes from him and back to Charlie, “I’m just gonna head to the loo. Be right back,” she smiled weakly. 

 

She worked her way through the crowded bar and tended her business before placing both her hands on the porcelain sink bowl and hunching over it. She turned the water to cold and then wet her palms, letting it cool her overheated skin. 

 

Why was she here? She shouldn’t be… Merlin, she had talked to Astoria just yesterday and somehow she was still getting herself into trouble. 

 

How many times did Hermione need to make the same mistake before it finally set in? 

 

She dried her hands and exited the loo but a strong hand pulled her back and into a corner, hidden from the rest of the bar. 

 

She was about to hex the assailant when she noticed the familiar shock of hair. 

 

“Draco Malfoy, what are you doing?!” she swatted at him. 

 

“I just wanted a minute to talk to you,” he said nervously, shifting from foot to foot. He seemed almost a different person than the rage fueled wizard who had appeared to be plotting her murder all night. 

 

“We shouldn’t…” 

 

“Why are you giving me such a cold shoulder? We’re friends, remember?”

 

“Dra--” she started and then corrected herself, “Malfoy, we can’t be friends anymore.”

 

“What?” he laughed hollowly, his eyebrows rising high on his head.

 

“Listen, something’s changed and it’s just not a good idea for the two of us to remain friends. I’d still like to be able to work together, amicably, should the need arise. But it’s best if any personal ties between are severed.”

 

Draco studied her face, his eyes searching for some clue that would give her away. 

 

“What’s happened?”

 

“It’s not important--”

 

“--It’s bloody  _ very _ important if it has you putting me on ice like this.”

 

“Why do you even care, Draco?” she peeked up through her lashes at him and she wished she could suck the words back into her mouth. It was a dangerous question. 

 

Draco opened his mouth, slammed it shut and then sucked a deep breath in through his nose. 

 

He seemed to be contemplating what he should reveal to her. 

 

“It’s not important anyway--” she started. 

 

He cut her off and he reached for her hand, which she snatched away. 

 

“You know why…”

 

“I really don’t. You’re married, Draco. Your wife is pregnant--”

 

He laughed in her face then and she wanted to reach up and smack him. 

 

“I assure you, Astoria is  _ not _ pregnant. I’d be bloody thrilled if she was,” her stomach lurched and she felt like vomiting, but he continued, “that would mean she slept with someone and I’d be rid of her.”

 

“What? I saw her… at the clinic…”

 

Draco scoffed, “Yea, she told me she went to see the doctor. She just wanted to make sure she could have children and they checked her fertile days, not that I give a shit.”

 

“She’s your wife… how can you say that?”

 

“Please stop calling her that like I married her for anything other than to save my mother and make her last years a comfort. She’s not my wife in some revered way that I chose her and loved her. She’s not pregnant. And the reason I know that, is that we were only together on our wedding night. I was so pissed drunk… well, let’s just say I didn’t perform my husbandly duties to completion.”

 

“You’re not sleeping with her?” Hermione paled and a small part of her heart seemed to get wedged back into place. 

 

“Merlin, no.  _ I’m _ not sleeping with anyone,” he alluded, “Why him? Why Weasley? You deserve better.”

 

To that she downright laughed, “Who are you to tell me anything about what I deserve. Do you understand what you put me through?” she hissed, “I can’t take this anymore, Draco. I can’t take you touching my hand or looking at me. I can’t take you pulling me into dark corners in dive bars. You are married. I need you to understand that so we can both get on with our lives.”

 

“What if I weren’t?” he swallowed thickly. 

 

“Weren’t what?”

 

“Weren’t married, you twit,” he made an unamused face. 

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I’ll leave her,” he said so seriously that she could feel it in her bones.

 

“Stop, you’re not going to leave your wife…”

 

“I will, Hermione, I’ll do anything. I can’t live like this. I can’t see you with him,” he nodded back towards the bar with a sneer. 

 

“Is that what this is? It’s because you’re jealous of Charlie?” she felt the breath leave her violently, “I am not some prize or trophy you get to parade around--”

 

“--That’s not what I’m saying! Can’t you just listen to me?!” he shouted, his temper rising. 

 

“Hermione?” Charlie’s voice severed the space between Draco and her and he took a step back quickly, “What’s going on here? Everything alright?”

 

“Yes, I’m alright,” she said, wishing that he weren’t here so she could continue this conversation just a moment longer. 

 

“I’m having a word with Granger, Weasley. Do me a favor and piss off,” he sneered. 

 

“Draco!” Hermione scolded. 

 

“What is your fucking problem tonight, mate?” Charlie’s voice lowered dangerously and Hermione could feel an altercation rising. 

 

“Get it straight. I’m not your fucking mate, alright?”

 

“Charlie, maybe it’s best if we leave,” Hermione placed a hand on Charlie’s chest, trying to regain his attention.

 

“Yea, you’re probably right. I’ll get you home,” he gestured back towards the crowd, “I’ve just got to settle the tab. Are you coming?”

 

“I’ll be right there,” she agreed, “I’m alright, I promise,” she smiled at him. 

 

Charlie’s eyes landed on Draco with a wordless warning and then he retreated the way he had come. 

 

“Why are you being so nasty to Charlie? He hasn’t done anything wrong!” 

 

“I’m fucking sick of his face everywhere. All around the ministry, at our meeting today and now here!”

 

Hermione sighed, feeling the heavy weight of the fight leave her skin, “I can’t do this with you anymore, Draco. I’m leaving.”

 

As she turned to leave, Draco’s hand shot out and tugged her back. 

 

“Draco, stop--” she said weakly. 

 

“Please don’t go home with him, Granger… Please. I-- I-- can’t,” he scrambled for the right words, his confident demeanor shaken for the first time she could recall. When she looked into his eyes they were rimmed with fat tears that she thought she had to be imagining, “Please… I’ll do anything. Anything. Just don’t go with him.” 

 

Hermione’s instinct told her to reach up and cup his face, to comfort him and take this pain away. 

 

But she didn’t. 

 

She pulled her hand out of his and took a deep breath. 

 

“Go home to your wife, Draco,” she said sadly and turned away, ignoring the sound of his fist hitting the drywall.

* * *

 

  
  


_ She felt an arm around her waist as he pulled her into him.  _

 

_ It was early. Too early. And she groaned at the impeding sun and grabbed a pillow and buried her face into it.  _

 

_ She felt it then and smiled. His morning excitement pressed into her back as his hand moved from her waist down to her knee.  _

 

_ Aha! That sneaky snake was up to no good, even at this hour.  _

 

_ His hand moved lazily up her thigh, causing her to gasp as his fingers moved inward and towards her center.  _

 

_ She lay still, thinking of it almost as a game. To see how much she could stand or how much he could before he got exasperated at her indifference.  _

 

_ His hands found her then and pressed lightly against her as he flexed his hips into her rear again and his lips made their way to her shoulder.  _

 

_ Still, she lay quietly. Inwardly, she wanted to arch her back and press into him… but she didn’t. She waited.  _

 

_ He started rubbing long lazy circles, just there and her thighs twitched.  _

 

_ She felt a smile graze her shoulder and he repeated the motion.  _

 

_ It took all of her might to not move an inch but as his finger dipped inside the seam of her underwear her breath caught and she’d known she’d lost a pawn. He had the upper hand and at that, he started to withdraw his hand.  _

 

_ She felt cold as he moved back and away from her and she tossed the pillow off of her head and turned over angrily, flopping over like an ogre.  _

 

_ “What are you doing?!” she accused. _

 

_ “You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you,” he was laying flat on his back now with his arms folded behind his head, a smug look about his face.  _

 

_ “Bullshit, stop that now.”  _

 

_ “Are you… are you insisting that I pleasure you?” he looked affronted.  _

 

_ “Oh, shut up,” she rolled her eyes and then smiled and straddled his lap.  _

 

_ He laughed at her and shoved her nighty up around her waist. _

* * *

 

  
  
  


The sun was too bright and she nestled into the warm, hard peck of Charlie Weasley and her arm was draped across his torso. 

 

“‘Mione?” Charlie said sleepily. 

 

He had slept over. 

 

Hermione winced as she remembered the night before…

 

Charlie had been curious about what was up Malfoy’s bum, but she said they were arguing about Dragonheart. Charlie hadn’t seemed overly convinced but he didn’t press her on it. 

 

When the Knight Bus arrived at her flat, she realized she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to think about Draco or all of his confessions and promises. It was all just too much. 

 

She asked Charlie to stay and he had seemed a little apprehensive but agreed. 

 

They didn’t have sex. They didn’t even snog. Just a kiss on the lips and they fell asleep....

 

Well,  _ he _ fell asleep. She realized what a disaster it had been to invite another man to share her bed. It had done the opposite affect and she lay there all night mulling over everything Malfoy had said. 

 

“ _ I’ll leave her.” _

 

He didn’t mean that. Couldn’t have. And so what if he did? She did not want to be the reason for him leaving his wife. If he decided he wanted to do that, great! More power to him! But she would not have the blood of their failed sham marriage on her hands. 

 

Charlie tensed a bit as they lay there together and Hermione felt it hitting her skin like the suns rays. 

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Her heart was pounding and she nodded in assent. 

 

“About Malfoy... I know you said last night was about Dragonheart, but I’m wondering if something else might be going on? You could tell me, you know,” his voice kind. 

 

Hermione felt stunned. She thought she was traversing this situation with such sneaky grace… but she was like a drunken troll. No one was oblivious. 

 

She decided on the truth, for once. At least part of it…

 

“Draco and I had a fling, before he was married. It’s long since been over but sometimes, I think we still annoy each other. Especially working in such close contact.”

 

“Was it serious?”

 

“No,” and that didn’t feel like a lie. It had been serious to her.. But he had been betrothed the entire time. 

 

“It’s just, you said his name a few times in your sleep….I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, I’m just trying to get a gage of what I’m up against here.”

 

She sat up quickly and threw her legs over the side of the bed. 

 

“I’m sure it was just because he was having such a fit last night. I have awful dreams about things that bring me stress. Malfoy would qualify as that…” she laughed darkly. 

 

“It’s just that--”

 

“Charlie, Draco is married. I have no intention of getting involved with a married man or any of his business. After tomorrow, the Gala will be over and I won’t be working with him any time in the foreseeable future.” 

 

Charlie bit his lip and nodded; wanting to accept this as truth… wanting that more than anything, but knowing there was more to the story that he wasn’t privy to. 

 

“I’m going to be late,” she confessed, with a tight lipped smile. 

 

“Why don’t you play hooky? Just for the morning… I can cook a mean Full English,” he pressed up on his elbow and she smiled as she took his face in. His impossibly square jaw and his rugged red stubble. His eyes were like ice water and they were always filled with such gentleness. She brought her palm up to his cheek and rubbed a thumb over his cheekbone. He turned her face towards her palm and planted a kiss there. 

 

She tried to imagine waking up to him every morning. To breakfasts in their kitchen and little kids running wild, playing dragons in their yard. Charlie would probably be one of those dads who swooped their kids up on their shoulders and paraded around the room. Teaching them how to ride a broom at far too young and she would go gray from the stress of it all but be filled with love.

 

She could imagine it, clearly. But something was missing and she idly hoped it wasn’t a piece of her heart that she’d never get back. 

 

“Raincheck?” she winced, “The Gala is tomorrow and I need to get with my team. I’ll be working late, but I’ll see you there tomorrow?”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he smiled down at her.

* * *

 

  
  
  


The day moved by so quickly that Hermione was able to keep her mind off the events that threatened to derail her. 

 

Every time she turned around there was a new problem to be solved and she relished the feeling of excitement it gave her. She did her best under pressure like this, her mind somehow cleared and she was able to delegate with precision. 

 

She barely sat at her desk and by the end of the day her feet were killing her. She still needed to pick up her dress from the tailor and eat some semblance of food today. 

 

So when the day had finally ended for her, far later than the rest of the Ministry, she rushed to Diagon Alley, hoping to make it there before the tailor closed at 7. 

 

She made it, barely and out of breath… but she made it. She retrieved her dress and put a temporary shrinking charm on it. 

 

She hurriedly thanked the tailor and stumbled out on the cobblestone. 

 

“‘MIONE!” 

 

Hermione’s eyes scanned the street until they fell on Ginny waving excitedly from down the street. 

 

“Gin! How are you? Sorry I’ve been so buggered up these last few weeks… I’ve been meaning to pop by the Burrow!”

 

“Oh don’t fret about me, I’m doing just fine. A little tired and hormonal but I’m feeling a bit better today. Wanted to get out a bit but Harry has to work late. Have you eaten?”

 

“I haven’t, I was just about to find something. Care to join me?”

 

“Perfect! I want to eat before the nausea sets in again,” she smiled and they turned for a small sandwich shop around the corner. 

 

“Have you… told Harry?”

 

Ginny’s spine straightened, “I haven’t… I was thinking tomorrow? At the Gala? He’ll probably offer me a drink at some point but I was thinking I could surprise him? I don’t know… probably stupid,” she laughed. 

 

“You seem a bit… better about this?

“I think I am? I don’t know… it’s still rotten timing. But, it’ll be good! I think I just needed some time to wrap my head around becoming a mum before I shared the chaos with Harry. I feel like I can help him navigate the waters now that I’ve made it past the rough seas,” she laughed fully and Hermione grinned at her friend. 

 

“You’ll be brilliant, you know that?”

 

“I hope so… but I don’t know. We will figure it out together,” she said determinedly. 

 

“What changed?”

 

“I don’t know if anything  _ changed,”  _ their shoes were clicking against the cobblestone, “I just realized that we were gonna be able to handle it. I found something…” she reached into her bag and pulled out a small hand knit maroon sweater, made probably for a 2 year old. It was undoubtedly a Molly original, and it had a P on it. 

 

“Who’s is that?”

 

“It’s actually Percy’s, but I stole it,” she laughed, staring at with reverence, “Thought it was perfect for a Potter baby,” Hermione felt like crying watching her friend, “Something this tiny can’t be that scary. Right?”

 

“Well… I don’t know about that,” Hermione nudged her friend, “Half Potter-Half Weasley? What will we do…” she joked. 

 

“I hope the baby has Harry’s green eyes…”

 

Hermione leaned in and wrapped her arms around her friend, squeezing her gently. 

 

“His eyes, your hair and please, let this child have neither of your tempers…” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE:
> 
> So, my goal is to have this entire story posted by my 30th birthday! EEK! That's 6 days and would definitely mean multiple chapters updated a day! BUT in order to accomplish this I need to finish the final chapter and epilogue. 
> 
> So please send me all your good vibes and thoughts as I try to wrap this story up. I'm terrified and sad all at once!


	14. Dragonheart

Blaise had requested that Charlie come early to assist with some organization of the event and to greet the Romanian dignitaries, should they arrive early. 

 

Hermione had panicked slightly at arriving solo but Charlie assured he that he would be waiting in the Entrance Hall at the Minister’s Mansion at exactly 7:00. 

 

She exited the Floo and felt a wave of nausea that she couldn’t account for. 

 

Ginny and Harry were waiting just in the Parlour where the Floo had deposited them a few moments prior. 

 

Ginny grinned at her friend and Harry turned at Ginny’s face and lit up as he took her in. 

 

There hadn’t been any question about Hermione’s dress. As soon as she laid her eyes on it, she knew it was the one. 

 

It was a deep v-neck dress in the most stunning shade of red she’d ever seen. It fit her snuggly down her torso and flared in dramatic skirt at her waist and fell elegantly to the floor. There was a daring slit that led almost to her hip bone. It had almost been too much and Hermione had considered not taking it home, but she couldn’t leave it there to be worn by anyone else. 

 

Her hair fell in loose curls that she had charmed and her eyes were framed with thick lashes and a gold shimmery shadow. 

 

“Hermione Granger,” he said warmly, “You shine up like a brand new Galleon,” he grinned. 

 

“You flatter me, Mister Potter,” she leaned in and pressed her cheek to his and faked a kiss then embraced Ginny. 

 

“I’m insanely nervous,” she admitted. 

 

“Don’t be,” Ginny grinned, “He’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.” 

 

Hermione eyes shot up and Ginny gave her a knowing smile. 

 

“Are you feeling ok?” Hermione asked quietly so only she could hear. Something looked off about her friend, maybe her paled complexion or just a worry set around her eyes. 

 

“A bit of cramping. The healer said it’s normal and I’ve taken a pain potion… I’m uncomfortable, but it’ll pass,” she smiled. 

 

“Maybe you ought to go home and rest?” her eyes darting over to Harry who still didn’t know the news for some reason. 

 

“No, no… Don’t be ridiculous,” she rolled her eyes, “Pain potion will be kicking in any minute.”

 

Hermione had a nasty feeling that she couldn't explain and promised herself to check in with her friend later. 

 

They walked, the three of them, towards the sound of the party and were lead to an extravagant double staircase made of deep cherry wood and inlaid with gold embellishments on the handle. 

 

“Good luck,” Ginny whispered to her and gave her a wink, “Follow your heart, Hermione. You deserve it.” 

 

Hermione gasped at her friends candidness, especially where her brother was concerned. She didn’t deserve friends like the ones she had. 

 

Harry extended his elbow to Ginny and the two descended the stairs as a pair. 

 

Hermione approached the banister between the two stairs and looked down at the Entrance Hall, searching. There must have been a hundred people in this room alone and finally Hermione caught sight of Charlie, looking ridiculously handsome in a pair of charcoal dress robes. 

 

She smiled watching him, he hadn’t noticed her yet. 

 

Her breath caught when the crowds parted and she noticed the familiar shock of blonde hair facing away from her but definitely speaking to Charlie Weasley. His pointed face turned towards her date, his mouth set in a firm line. 

 

Charlie’s eyes flicked up and landed on her and she gave him a shaky smile. 

 

Why was he standing next to Draco?    
  


She sucked in a nervous breath. 

 

Charlie clapped his palm on Draco’s shoulder and muttered something to him before beelining it directly for the left staircase. She gave him a shy smile and watched as Draco turned to see where Charlie was headed in such a hurry. 

 

His jaw went slack as Hermione’s gold heel hit the first staircase and exposed a flash of her leg through the slit. She looked down at the stairs as the silk of her dress swirled around her legs and when they raised, they didn’t fall on Charlie. 

 

They caught the glance of the silver eyed boy she’d fallen in love with all those months ago… the boy she never really fell out of love with at all. 

 

She shook her head and returned her attention to the  _ other  _ man, the one at the bottom of the stairs, _ waiting  _ for her. He grinned up at her and she smiled at him genuinely. 

 

“Hermione, you are stunning. Breathtaking…” he breathed and clutched at his chest dramatically as her feet landed. He brought her in close and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her and her eyes flicked up again to Draco, standing there in his dress robes with the same deep look he so often gave her, she swallowed thickly. 

 

She gasped lightly and removed herself from the hug, kissing Charlie lightly on the lips. 

 

“Shall we?” he asked brightly and she returned her attention to him and gave him a happy nod. 

  
  


\----

Blaise Zabini, for all his faults, was an absolute mastermind. 

 

As they walked through the grand doors that stretched up almost two stories, the air swelled in her chest. A giant dragon sculpture sat at the entrance, breathing out red smoke that swirled magically into the air. 

 

The room was large and open on the bottom with the second floor having a wrap around balcony that encircled it and looked down at all the activity. There were long banners of chiffon rippling from the ceiling and changing color rapidly in all the different colors of a bonfire. Smoke swirled at their feet and entire room felt like the inside of a Dragon belly… but in the best way possible. There were large onyx lookign sculptures with tiny charmed dragons breathing fire and smoke into the room. 

 

“Wow!” her jaw dropped, “This is incredible…” she said loudly over the murmur of ambient noise. 

 

“I know, I know… That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Blaise startled her by speaking over her shoulder. 

 

“Blaise!” she wrapped him in a hug, “You’ve outdone yourself. This is…”

 

“I know!” he threw his hands up in mock surprise, “I’m a genius, I get it.”

 

“Thank you, Blaise! Do you need me to do anything? I feel awful I’m just arriving…”

 

“Please, Granger. Dressed like that,” he clucked his tongue, “You don’t need to do anything again for the rest of your life,” sensing her impeding anger he threw his hands up in surrender, “But I know, I know... you can do it all dressed like that and still kick my ass at the end of the day.”

 

She smirked at him and realized just how much she’d come to enjoy Blaise’s company these last few months. 

 

“You both can do me a favor,” Blaise said seriously, “Walk around, be seen, get your picture taken, and smooze the shit out of any Wizard wearing a family crest on their right hand. That means they are Pureblooded and up to their ears in Galleons. Hermione, I know you are reluctant to use your status to garner attention of any sort… not tonight. We need to raise 200,000 Galleons  _ tonight. _ So, drop that Order of Merlin, Gryffindor Princess, Golden Trio bullshit on anyone who will eat it up. Tell them what color underwear Harry Potter wears and how old he was when he lost his virginity. I’ll be having the exact same conversation with everyone else about you.” 

 

Hermione was having a very hard time wrapping her mind around all these instructions… she felt like she was selling her soul to the devil. 

 

“Grangerrrr,” Blaise chided, knowing her thoughts somehow, “Think of your baby dragons. Do it.”

 

He was gone in a flash and Hermione was left staring at Charlie. 

 

“So…” Charlie started. 

 

“So…”

 

“Why don’t we start with some food and drink, before we go on to kiss the asses of all the people we can’t stand. Sound like a plan?”

 

“A bloody brilliant one,” she grinned. 

  
  


\-----

 

Hermione’s hand touched the arm of a stuffy old aristocrat as she covered her mouth in a coy laugh at Mister Pennyfoot’s childish, somewhat offensive, joke. 

 

He smelled like the inside of her grandmothers armoire... but he was sweet and wore his glasses far down on his nose in a way that reminded her vividly of Dumbledore. 

 

“So, tell me,” his voice cracked, “You’re the brains behind this event tonight? I was surprised to find out that Malfoy bloke was in on it as well… I won’t lie.”

 

“Yes, well I work for the Ministry and Charlie here is working at the Romanian sanctuary. Together we worked out a lot of the kinks on the ground and when I got back, Malfoy Consulting had agreed to help the case pro bono. The three of them have been integral in creating not only this evening but the legislation that’s going to seriously save the Dragon population as we know it.”

 

“My family is always proud to back any project you might be working on. We’ve been big fans of yours and of course, Harry Potter’s since the war! Can’t believe all you did,” he blushed. 

 

Hermione got a brilliant idea and scanned the room. 

 

“HARRY!” she caught him over by the drink table with Ginny who was biting a worried lip, her hand resting idly on her tummy. 

 

Harry’s brows shot up and he led Ginny over to the group where Charlie and her where schmoozing. 

 

“Oh my stars… is that…” Mister Pennyfoot went pale at the sight of Harry Potter in all his glory approaching. 

 

“Hermione? Hello,” he nodded politely to the rest of the circle. 

 

“Harry, Mister Pennyfoot mentioned what a fan he was of ours… well, mainly yours, of course,” she grinned, “I thought you two ought to meet! After all, it’s not everyday we snag you at these charity events.”

 

Harry gave her a pointed look, hating the attention. 

 

“Of course,” he smiled politely turning his attention to the elderly man who had gone completely silent in his awe, “How do you do, sir?”

 

Harry held out a hand and the man took it moving faster than Hermione thought possible. 

 

Hermione bit down on her lip and looked over her shoulder at the crowd. Blaise was standing next to Theo and Draco. He gave her an approving nod and tipped his glass towards her, Theo was chatting into Draco’s ear and Draco, as always had his eyes trained on her. 

 

She had half a mind to march over and tell him to knock it off but she returned to their conversation and kept her mouth shut. 

  
  


\-----

 

“Did you just hear that?!” Hermione gushed, her arm snaked up around Charlie’s as he lead her to the dance floor, “Twenty-Thousand Galleons! I’m in shock!” 

 

Hermione was positively vibrating with the news that Mister Pennyfoot would love to support the cause and boasted to Harry he would write a check just then for Twenty-Thousand. 

 

Hermione had choked on her champagne, which had been tinted blood red and when you huffed out after having a drink, you let out a small puff of smoke. It was a lovely touch until she coughed up a cloud of smoke that startled the circle. 

 

Charlie extended his arm elaborately so she made a large circle and then playfully yanked her back into his embrace. 

 

His arm snaked around her waist and his rough hand caught her small one. His thumb ran a lazy path up and down as he swayed them around the dance floor. 

 

Her hand caught the back of his neck and she looked up at him dreamily. 

 

She was struck by the way he looked down on her. Starry eyed, seemed to be the only way to describe it. 

 

She blushed. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Nothing,” he smiled and kissed her forehead. 

 

“No, tell me,” she pressed. 

 

“It’s just… I think somewhere along the line I stopped making plans. Because when you make plans and people start dying… well, it’s easier just to NOT make plans. To just keep going day to day to day. But, I’m here and I’m here with you, against all odds. And, forgive me for being a total softy, but damnit… I’m making plans.”

 

Hermione grinned as he finished his confession and dropped her gaze to their feet. She felt a stab of guilt and tried so very hard to ignore it. 

 

“Charlie…” she started. 

 

“Oh no,” he tensed, “Too much?”

 

“Not at all,” she leaned up to kiss him, “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met and I truly mean that.”

 

She felt that all too familiar tug and her eyes flicked to the left and there he was,  _ again.  _

 

What was his fucking problem? 

 

For the first time her eyes fell on the backless gown of Lady Malfoy and her teeth gritted down. She was stunning in the arms of her husband as they danced to the same slow melody. Her gown reminded Hermione of a Grecian Goddess with gathered fabric that hung low on her back and glistened in a deep pewter shade. 

 

She seemed completely oblivious to her husband's inappropriate stares and Hermione quickly averted her gaze. 

 

The music cut off abruptly and Hermione turned to the source. 

 

Blaise Zabini was standing on the stage tapping a microphone, that she was surprised to see on stage. 

 

“Hello, hello! Welcome to DRAGONHEART!” the crowd erupted in thunderous applause and even though Hermione wasn’t up there, she felt proud beyond belief, “I’m Blaise Zabini, single, wealthy, aristocrat, for those of you single witches in here who don’t mind ditching your dates,” he waggled his eyebrows and the audience laughed at his horrible joke, while Hermione just rolled her eyes at him. 

 

“First, I’d like to say a couple big thanks and give a little recognition where it’s due. Now, I’m mostly a glorified party planner and schmoozer, but there are some people in this room who actually did the hard work of getting this event and legislation to the right people. Let’s start with the hybrid Ravenclaw-Slytherin-Hufflepuff, Theodore Nott. A spotlight illuminated an embarrassed but grinning Theo and he smiled and waved to the crowds. “Theo, get your ass up here,” and the crowd laughed again. 

 

Hermione hadn’t expected to get on stage and she could see where this was leading quickly. Charlie wrapped his arms around her from behind and brought his lips to her ear. 

 

“I have a surprise for you,” he confessed in a throaty voice and her chest felt thick. 

 

“Our fearless leader, Draco Malfoy,” another pause for applause, “and the one and only, Hermione Granger,” the light hit her and the crowds parted for her to make her way up. 

 

The only catch was that Draco hadn’t made his way up to the stage yet and their paths met on the walk to the stage. As she approached the stairs he held his hand out in a gentlemanly gesture but when she took it there was a zap of electricity between them. Her eyes shot to him for the briefest of moments and he squeezed her fingers gently, his eyes full of a million unsaid words. 

 

They made their way to their stage and the applause didn’t cease for a few moments. She felt alive with adrenaline and could feel static kiss her skin from the wizard to her right, like the energy between them was dying to be reunited at last. She wondered if he felt it too. 

 

“We had some help along the way, and while we don’t like to share the spotlight up here, we will give a shout out to Charlie Weasley from the Romanian Sanctuary and Beatrice Waterstone for her endless support in the project.”

 

She smiled at Charlie who was smiling shyly at the witches and wizards around him. 

 

“Hermione, do you care to say a few words?” Blaise grinned devilishly at her and she could have skinned him alive in this moment. 

 

“Of course,” she smiled and walked up the microphone, “Thank you all so much for being here. Thank you to my team of associates who have bled for me over these past few months. This dream was born out of pure necessity for these beautiful creatures who desperately needed a champion. Thank you all for being that champion. Every galleon you have donated will go directly to saving these incredible beings. A special thank you to Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott and I guess, Blaise too,” the crowd chuckled as Blaise feigned a wounded heart, “This wouldn’t be possible without you,” she said directly to Draco and then her gaze went back to the crowd and found Astoria with a tight jaw and a narrowed glare. 

 

Hermione smiled one last time and took a step back, her eyes searched for Charlie but he was gone and she panicked for the briefest of moments.

 

Blaise stepped up again, “Our final piece of boring propaganda for the night would be to tell you that thanks to each and everyone of you who has donated, we have met our goal of TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND GALLEONS!”

 

The crowd erupted and Hermione gasped her hand flying up to her chest. 

 

“That handsome red-headed Dragon taming Weasley has a little surprise to celebrate tonight as well,” Blaise turned to wink at Hermione and her brows furrowed in confusion. 

 

She heard gasps and turned to see Charlie walking out with one pot bellied dragon on his shoulder nuzzling his cheek, one in the crook of his arm and a third walking next to him. 

 

She squealed as she rushed towards him and rubbed the cheek of the dragon they had saved together this summer. They were bigger but still tiny in comparison to how large she knew they’d be. 

 

“Thanks to your generous hearts, these three baby dragons will be moving to England and they are eager to meet you! And under very strict and careful watch of the big guy, so do be careful!”

 

“Oh, Charlie!” she gushed and he beamed at her. 

 

Blaise left centerstage and rallied the team with Charlie in the center with the dragons for a photo. Draco was still to her left and he pressed in towards her for the photo, she felt his hand at her lower back and she stiffened at his touch. It was so slight, barely there… but she desperately missed it. 

 

There she was, standing between Draco Malfoy and Charlie Weasley. 

 

The irony didn’t escape her for a moment.

 

She felt dizzy and overheated as the bulb of the flash went off several times in a row and as the photographer nodded and walked away she swayed. 

 

“Are you ok, love?” Charlie noticed her blank expression and pale skin. 

 

“Yes, just a little flushed I think… I’m going to go and splash some water on my neck,” she blinked, her lower back still scorching from his touch. 

 

“Should I come?” his eyes filled with concern and one of the Dragons huffed out a small ball of smoke. 

 

“No, no, they need you here,” she smiled, “I’ll be back.” 

 

She sped quickly off the stage and out a side door which slammed shut as she rushed down the hall, lined with still portraits and landscape oil paintings. 

 

She needed to escape and desperately so. 

 

She heard the door open and the sound of leather soled shoes was quick behind her. She shut her eyes as she fought to gather enough breath in her lungs and failed. 

 

“Granger,” a hiss down the hall. 

 

“GO AWAY!” she picked up speed and was now doing a light jog, her heels echoing loudly. 

 

She felt panicky and overwhelmed and ducked into the nearest open door, attempting to close it abruptly behind her but a long pair of hands caught it quickly. 

 

Draco moved into the room and closed it behind him, giving her an intense look of concern. 

 

The room was a small sitting room of some sort. She was sure that Pureblood Aristocrats had a special name for it… maybe a drawing room or parlour. It had a small chaise in the corner and a desk that was empty except for a lamp and quill. There was a wall of built in bookcases and it was lined with expensive looking knick knacks and leather bound books. 

 

“What do you want?!” she turned on him angrily. 

 

“I came to check on you,” he lied easily. 

 

“Check on me?!” she breathed incredulously. 

 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

 

She sighed in exasperation, “No. Okay? Does that make you feel better? I’m not alright!,” the storm behind his eyes intensified and she snapped, “Stop looking at me!” 

 

“I’m not looking at you,” he said simply, taking another few steps into the room and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. 

 

“You’re looking at me. You’re married and you’re looking at me. Charlie has plans and he’s a good guy. He’s perfect for me and I’m trying really fucking hard here to be happy again. And you’re there, always. Looking at me.  _ I can’t breathe  _ when you’re looking at me!” She shouted and paced nervously back and forth finally moving to rest her palms on the empty desk. 

 

“Do you think I want to be looking at you?” He sneered, “Don’t you think I’d rather be looking at my wife? She doesn’t drive me insane, she doesn’t make it impossible for me to feel normal. She doesn’t make me sick to my stomach at the thought of another man touching her! Trust me, I would give  _ anything _ NOT to be looking at you right now,” he spat. 

 

He wasn’t angry, though. It was like a confession. Like he had been burdened for so long that finally, the weight was gone and he had to just say it. 

 

He was just next to her now, his breath hot on her shoulder. Even though they weren’t touching, she could feel him everywhere. That static that never seemed to fade was licking the air around them and she turned her head to where he was and wished immediately that she hadn’t. 

 

The moment she had, the rest had ceased to matter. 

 

He looked at her with those stormy eyes that were brimming with all that passion she’d been missing since Colombia. That fire that made her feel hot and cold and breathtaking. 

 

It was then she made her fatal mistake. 

 

She glanced down at his lips. His perfect, pale, parted lips. 

 

The moment she had, he reached for her. 

 

His hand clasped her hard around the back of the neck, tangling his hands in her soft curls and she gasped as their lips met in a clash of fury. All thoughts of reason and right vanished the moment he captured her mouth. 

 

He tasted the same, like spearmint and too strong tea. Her hands grasped at the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled at him until his firm body was pressed against hers. 

 

He backed her up so that her bum was resting firmly against the edge of the solid desk and his hands moved freely. Exploring her form in a way that she had missed so much it hurt. He always treated her body with such reverence, like she was a temple deity and must be properly worshipped before entering. 

 

His lips left her mouth as his hand tugged firmly at the mess of curls he had claimed. She gasped again as her head yanked back and welcomed the sting it brought. He left a trail of wet kisses down her throat and his hand pushed the strap of her gown down so it hung loosely over her shoulder, so he could continue his markings there. 

 

The other moved south, grabbing a hold of her knee and hitching it up. The fabric of the slit falling to the side and exposing her long leg and he groaned in hunger at the sight. 

 

Her hands began working on his belt, moving frantically and with reckless abandon. She felt his hands slide up her outer thighs and grab a hold of her knickers. Before she knew it they were sliding down her legs and she was freeing his shaft from his confines. 

 

Before she could take a breath they were joined and she moaned at the fullness.

 

He pushed the other strap down and it exposed her breasts enough that he could continue to kiss her again and again there before finally working his way up to his mouth. 

 

Their tongues danced in a beautiful choreograph as if they had never quit. As if they had always done this. As if they were always meant to. 

 

His thrusts were powerful and firm and she hitched her knees up higher. Instead of leaning back she grasped onto him like he was a life vest and she was drowning. Their bodies were flush and she could feel his rushed breath in her curls as she twisted her arm up and around the back of his head, cradling it to her neck.

 

His hands grasped at the fleshiness of her hips, her bum, her waist. Each handful begging to be closer than they were… an impossible request. 

 

She felt a knot deep in her belly that she recognized from their previous trysts and she knew that it was about be unwound delightfully. It was there, twisting and begging and as she clamped her thighs around his hips and felt herself unravel he moaned himself as they found a quick and sudden release together. 

 

She held him close and his lips found hers again, kissing her softly and languidly, enjoying every corner of her mouth as they still clung to each other. 

 

The kiss finally ended and they rested their foreheads together in shared breath. 

 

As soon as it had begun…it ended.

 

And then it crashed all around her. 

 

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” she chanted and he quickly stepped back and away from her, “Fuck! What did we just do? Where are my knickers?? I had knickers…” she was frantically searching the ground, the desk, the chair… they were nowhere. 

 

“Granger…” 

 

Draco was eerily calm, watching her. 

 

“Draco! Help me look, they’re black. Please,” she pleaded. 

 

“Hermione!” her eyes snapped up at him at the use of her given name. 

 

“What?!” 

 

“What does this mean?” He asked with a deep look in his eyes. 

 

“Fucking hell, are you kidding me?”

 

The door swung quickly open. 

 

Draco jumped and started fussing with the buttons of his trousers turning guilty from the open door and she pushed up her strap that was still hanging over her shoulder. 

 

Harry stood there, his hand on the door knob and the most disappointed look on his face Hermione had ever seen. Her heart cracked a little. He ran his tongue over his teeth and blinked slowly. 

 

“Hermione, Ginny needs you. It’s an emergency,” he said flatly, staring at a spot on the carpet. 

 

“What’s happened?” Her heart sunk, remembering her paled expression and worried lip. 

 

“No idea, she won’t tell me. She just said she needs you. She’s near the Floo. If you’ve got the time that is.” 

 

She flushed deeply and sprinted from the room, her knickers long forgotten, her heels clicking loudly along the marble floor. 

 

_ Whore. Whore. Whore.  _

 

Of course, they weren’t really saying that… but that’s all she heard. A fucking married man…

  
  


Then she stopped in her tracks and almost doubled over. 

 

_ Charlie.  _

 

The tears started to trickle down her cheeks and she picked up her pace. She made her way to the grand double staircase and could hear two mens voices around her. 

 

“Hermione!” A worried one. 

 

“GRANGER!” A desperate one. 

 

She was half way up the stairs and turned to see at the bottom the two men who had been inadvertently vying for her heart. One of them hadn’t even known he was in competition. 

 

“Hermione?” Charlie stepped forward, his handsome face smothered by his nervousness at her disheveled appearance and tears.

 

“Granger,” Draco breathed again and stepped up so that he was shoulder to shoulder with Charlie. 

 

As her red rimmed eyes darted between the two of them, realization dawned on Charlie. It settled on him like a weight and she looked at her feet in shame. 

 

Charlie squared his shoulders and tightened his jaw as he looked at Malfoy. Tousled hair and bee stung lips. Draco, never one to back down, turned his face towards him with a steely determination. 

 

“Ginny needs me,” she said softly and turned to sprint up the stairs. Her beautiful gown, the one she couldn’t leave the store without… the one that would now forever be tainted in her shame, swirled up the stairs in a wave around her legs as she rushed to her friends side. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE:
> 
> **DUCKS FROM FLYING PHONES OF CHARMIONE SHIPPERS**
> 
> **WINKS AT DRAMIONE SHIPPERS**
> 
> This is the just about the halfway point of the story friends and Charlie isn't going anywhereeee. 
> 
> Forever thanks to my beta and buddy, SweetLilBullet
> 
> **THERE ARE DIRECT AND ALTERED QUOTES FROM GREYS ANATOMY IN THIS CHAPTER**


	15. After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Miscarriage
> 
> Read with caution friends.

Ginny was resting in Hermione’s bed.

 

Hermione had brought her tea… and breakfast… and lunch.

 

All of it remained untouched.

 

When Hermione arrived outside the Floo and saw her friend there, clutching her belly and tears in her eyes, Hermione knew.

 

She took them to Saint Mungos where the Healer confirmed that at 9 weeks, they weren’t seeing what they expected. There was no heartbeat and the baby was measuring rather small.

 

She was sure she would never forget the sobs that broke from Ginny’s chest that night. As she clutched at her belly and while she waited for her pain to cease.

 

The Healer said that due to Ginny’s age and the early gestation period, it was best to let the baby pass on it it’s own.

 

At this, Ginny turned to stone. She shut off every emotion and just stared blankly at her hands.

 

She hadn’t wanted to go home to the Burrow and had violently protested when Hermione suggested Grimmauld Place. And so… here they were.

 

Hermione was happy to have her there but she was having a hard time dodging a very persistent Harry Potter. He had dropped by last night and Hermione had gently let him know that Ginny wasn’t feeling well and needed some space. He had Floo’d three times that morning and still, Ginny made no inclination she wanted to speak to him about it.

 

It wasn’t Hermione’s news to tell but it wasn’t right to keep it from Harry, either.

 

Having Ginny here and tending to her was keeping Hermione’s mind from drifting to dangerous places, not that it didn’t try.

 

She’d be washing the dishes and crane her neck as she remembered the kisses that trailed there just the night before.

 

She could still feel his rough hands up her waist and would have to snap her eyes open to force it away.

 

She had cleaned every inch of her apartment the Muggle way and was curled up on her couch near her Floo, staring at a page without seeing anything.

 

The Floo roared green and out walked a disheveled Harry Potter.

 

His hair was even messier than it usually was and he had dark circles under his eyes. She noticed he was still wearing his dress trousers and button up from the night before, even though it was nearing dinner the following day.

 

“Have you slept at all?” her heart pained to see her friend in such a state.

 

“No. Where is she? This is getting ridiculous! You can’t just keep her from me,” he accused.

 

“Harry Potter,” she scolded, “What do you honestly think I’m doing? Keeping her hostage?! She doesn’t want to see anyone right now. She’s ok, physically speaking. She’s just a bit sad and needs to clear her head.”

 

“No,” he stomped towards Hermione’s bedroom door and rapped his knuckles against it, “Ginny?”....no answer, “Gin, it’s me.”

 

He tried the handle and found it locked. He withdrew his wand and Hermione’s hand shot out to stall him.

 

“I know it’s hard to not have all the answers. I’m trying to get her to talk to you about what’s going on but she needs some time. Barreling in there right now might do more harm than good…”

 

“She needs me, Hermione.She might not know it right now. She might think she’s got this on her own, whatever it is that she’s dealing with and that she’s strong enough to carry it all. And she’s right; she _is_ strong enough. But that doesn’t mean she should have to be. I’m going in and she may very well hex me until I eat pickled slugs for a month… but I’m still going to be there,” his resolve moved her and she withdrew her touch and nodded.

 

She returned to her spot on the couch and brought her legs to her chest.

 

How could their love hurt her so much. It was like a limb she didn’t realize she was missing until she saw someone else using it so freely.

 

There was a knock on her door and she sighed, not wanting to face anyone.

 

She opened it and her heart plummeted into her belly.

 

Charlie.

 

His face was a mix of emotions but the most prominent one was concern.

 

“Hey, Hermione,” he said with a tight line to his mouth, “Have you seen Ginny since last night?”

 

“Charlie, come in,” she moved to the side and felt all at once uncomfortable in her loose sweats and tank top. She looked like a much different version of herself than she had last night.

 

“Mum sent me. Ginny didn’t come home last night and while that might not normally be cause for alarm, Mum saw her clock hand at Saint Mungos late last night and hasn’t been able to reach her yet. She’s in a panic…” he said idly, his eyes inspecting her apartment from the entry.

 

“Oh, Molly…” Hermione felt horribly guilty, “She’s here. She’s ok… Harry is in there with her.”

 

“What’s wrong?” a flash of worry for his little sister that made her heart swell.

 

“I… she doesn’t want me to say. She’s not injured and she’s going to be ok. She doesn’t really want to see anyone, but you know Harry,” she laughed and moved towards her kitchen, “Would you like some tea?”

 

“No, thanks. I should go and let Mum know… she’s worried sick.”

 

“Oh, right. Of course,” she started folding a kitchen towel, trying to keep her hands busy and her eyes off of him.

 

“I just wanted to say… I don’t know what happened, between you and Malfoy last night,” It struck her how Gryffindor Charlie was, his voice clear and calm, no hesitation.

 

“Charlie…”

 

“And I don’t want to know. We never said this,” he gestured to the space between them, “We, we never said this was exclusive.”

 

“Charlie, you are so kind and thoughtful… you’re generous and sensitive… You’ve got plans and I--”

 

“Yea, well I never said I wasn’t pissed off. Just that we weren’t exclusive,” his jaw was clenched and she watched his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat as he swallowed.

 

She felt the familiar tug of tears and tried desperately to blink them away as he moved towards the door.

 

“ I know you think that you’ve done all these horrible things and that makes you think you don’t deserve good things... But you do. _I’m_ a good thing. Malfoy, he’s bad news for any number of reasons. And if there is a race… if there’s some hat for your affections, my wand is in it.”

 

She couldn’t speak. The sincerity of his words rendered her, for maybe the first time, speechless.

 

“And one more thing,” he turned and his usually warm blue eyes had a touch of fire behind them, “I’m not all that sensitive.”

 

He found her in two strides and cradled her face in his large, rough hands and tilted her face to meet his. She gasped as his lips crashed against hers and his body pressed her until she backed against her fridge.

 

He kissed her roughly and Hermione felt all that passion she had been missing in his touch. His hands paved a trail down her sides and found the flesh of her bum. He squeezed it tightly and lifted her in his strong arms effortlessly and she gave an unexpected yelp at the movement, to which he smiled against her lips.

 

He turned them and placed her rear directly on the counter and moved his hands back to her face, parting her lips with his and darting his tongue into her mouth and eliciting the smallest of mewls from her.

 

Suddenly, as quickly as it started, it ended. He had stepped back and the absence of his heat left  goosebumps spread over her skin.

 

Her eyes snapped open and she was panting. He was too and she quite literally felt faint for the briefest of moments.

 

He left without another word and Hermione jumped at the noise of the door clicking shut.

 

“Holy shit,” she whispered to herself.

 

\-----

 

Hermione sat in her little alcove by the window, a glass of red wine in her hand and her knees tucked up. She stared out the window as the rain poured down and avoided thinking of anything other than the steady stream of rain.

 

She knew where Charlie stood. He was uncomplicated and sure footed. Everything Hermione should want, everything she needed. What was it that kept her from giving him her heart?

 

Draco was everything Charlie wasn’t. Their relationship was always messy and in the shadows, but it made her feel things she had never thought possible.

 

But regardless, he was still married.

 

All this inner turmoil was moot due to that fact.

 

She heard the door to her bedroom open and she turned her head to Harry exiting, glasses off and rubbing his eyes. He closed the door behind him and came to sit next to her on the alcove bench.

 

“Well?” Hermione raised her brows, “You’ve been in there awhile…”

 

“I wish I would have known… I knew something was up. I thought it was Quidditch or I’d pissed her off somehow,” he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly, “I wish I could say you should have told me… but I know you couldn’t. I wish _she_ would have bloody told me. She’s a stubborn witch,” he laughed hollowly.

 

“That she is,” she offered him her wine and he waved his hand to decline.

 

“Make me feel better,” he leaned back, “Tell me what the fuck you were thinking last night…”

 

“Harry…”

 

“Malfoy?! He’s married! I thought you were done with all that…”

 

“Yea, so did I.”

 

“And Charlie?”

 

“He was just here actually, looking for Gin. He’s not particularly pleased with me but hasn’t totally written me off…” she blushed, “Not that it means anything. How can I stay with him after what I’ve done?”

 

“What’s Malfoy have to say?”

 

“Crickets.”

 

“Damn… what are you gonna do?” he rubbed his palm through his hair.

 

“I …” she sighed heavily, “have absolutely no idea,” she laughed dryily, “I mean… I can’t choose Charlie just because I can’t have Draco. I don’t know what I’m going to do… I just know I have to get through today… and the next and the next...What’s Ginny’s plan?”

 

“I’m gonna take her back with me in a bit… Thank you, Hermione. For being the person she trusted when she couldn’t trust me.”

  


\-----

 

Hermione looked half as good as she felt and she felt like absolute shit. Her hair was a mess and the bags under her eyes made her look ten years older. She hadn’t slept a wink. Perhaps her crushing guilt or her constant anxiety over the many issues in her life… but regardless, she hadn’t slept.

 

She didn’t deserve Charlie’s grace and she felt like she needed to punish herself, if no one else would do it for her. She wondered if maybe this is how House Elves felt when they felt compelled to punish themselves.

 

She had to pick up the key from Blaise before lunch so she could deliver it to the Financial Magistar. They would secure the funds until they needed to be used while the next leg of the project began and they worked out the kinks of actually building and opening a sanctuary.

 

A sub-committee would be formed and she assumed she would sit in on that committee. This wouldn’t be her main project anymore though, her job had been done. The legislation passed and Malfoy Consulting would cease any interaction with her department.

 

The thought pained her. She had learned to love that silly trio of snakes and all their mischief. They were good guys deep, DEEP down.

 

And the idea of not seeing Malfoy on a regular basis hurt the most of all. She knew it was right, it was best… but it was painful.

 

She sat hunched over her desk, sipping on cold coffee that she couldn’t bring herself to even warm with a charm.

 

There were a few other proposals from her team members and there was still the matter of the protected herd lands for the wild Unicorn near Scotland.

 

A million things that deserved her attention and yet her mind replayed being pressed against the desk and the silk of her dress falling open as he settled himself between her legs. The feeling of Charlie lifting her effortlessly in her kitchen, on a counter she would never look at again without blushing.

 

“NO!” she shouted to no one and palmed her face.

 

She heard a murmur of giggles coming closer and closer to her door. The hair on her arms prickled and she jumped as an owl flew threw her door and landed her on desk lamp.

 

She wondered how quickly someone could go into shock. Was she experiencing the symptoms? Cold sweat, hyper vision, racing heart… they seemed to go along with what she thought shock would look like.

 

Because in the mouth of that blasted owl was a pair of black lacy underwear. _Her_ black lacy underwear. The ones she had lost track of after her liaison with Draco at the gala…

 

She had assumed they would be found by a cleaning crew or heaven forbid, the Minister. No one would link them to her and no one would be the wiser.

 

But, here they were. On her desk. Her shame had flown through the office and straight into her office for her co-workers to bare witness to.

 

The owl dropped her knickers onto the table and took off without a treat. Just as well, she didn’t feel like treating the little bird, even if it didn’t understand what it had just done.

 

Attached to her underwear was a small 2 inch scroll.

 

Her shaking hands reached out to snag it and unrolled it.

 

_Miss Granger,_

 

 _It seems you’ve left these in my husbands robes. I do hope you’ll be more careful with your personal effects in the future._  


_Yours,_

 

_Mrs. Astoria Malfoy_

 

\-----

 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck._

 

For all her extensive vocabulary and incredible brain, this was the only phrase she could repeat again and again.

 

She had done a quick little incendio to the note and the incriminating knickers in her rubbish bin and then promptly left her office, ignoring the stares of everyone as she scurried down the hall.

 

How could she be so fucking stupid? HOW?

 

\-----

 

The elevator dinged at the penthouse and the apartment opened up right into the foyer.

 

 _Fancy,_ she thought as she exited the elevator and she appraised the lavish space.

 

That was, until her eyes landed on the square shoulders of Malfoy and all thoughts violently left her mind.

 

 _Of course,_ it was Malfoy. Why wouldn’t he fucking be here.

 

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he turned his head at the sound of the elevator.

 

He seemed just as surprised to see her.

 

“Granger?” his brows shot up in confusion.

 

She turned quickly to return back into the elevator as a means of escape and almost caught her nose in the metal doors as they closed before she could stop them.

 

She let out an exhausted sigh and banged her forehead on the elevator doors.

 

“Ouch,” she hissed, hitting herself too hard. How did House Elves do it?

 

“Granger? What are you doing here?” his voice was soft, like he was scared if he spoke too quickly he might spook her.

 

She turned and winced as she looked at him, quickly darting her eyes away. She couldn’t look at him.

 

“I am collecting shitty experiences so that I can someday look back and say that yes, this was the worst day of my miserable existence.”

 

She slid her back down the elevator doors and her legs fell out in front of her. She looked like a broken doll but even that would be an improvement from how she felt.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch yet…”

 

“It’s alright,” she held up her palm, “This isn’t the first time I’ve been your dirty little mistress. I remember how it goes.”

 

She as utterly defeated in every sense of the word.

 

She looked up at him and found he was smiling a warm smile down at her. He fell to one knee next to her and brushed back a hair that was falling onto her forehead.

 

“I’m here because I’m looking for Astoria,” she flinched and he reached back out for her, cupping her cheek and turning her face towards him, “I wanted to tell her first that it’s over, officially. I’m leaving her.”

 

“You can’t do that--”

 

“Of course I can,” his eyes, normally like a thunderstorm were now the calm, clear gray skies that looked at her with this overwhelming amount of awe.

 

“Your inheritance--”

 

“I don’t need it,” he waved his hand, “I told you I was expanding Malfoy Consulting. The Gala not only secured your passion project success but I’ve also had a steady stream of owls asking for our business. It was never that I wanted the money so that I could sit on my ass and count galleons, Granger. I only ever needed it for one purpose and now that I’m confident I can create my own wealth,” he shrugged, “She can have it. I don’t want it.”

 

“Draco…” she breathed, “You’re married.”

 

“Not for long. I’m going to tell her, I just have to bloody find her.”

 

“Why would Blaise know--”

 

“Blaise knows everything, especially where Astoria is involved,” his said with a trickle of annoyed amusement in his voice.

 

“What does that--”

 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Blaise strolled out dressed only in sweatpants that hung loosely off his well chiseled hips. Hermione blushed scarlet and Draco narrowed his eyes at his friend.  “What can I do you for?” he rubbed his hands together happily.

 

“Key, please,” Hermione held out her palm, “For the love of Merlin, just give me the blasted key so I can return to work and bury my head in my paperwork and never resurface.”

 

“AH! Right, let me go and grab that,” he pretended to pat down his torso, “Malfoy? What am I grabbing for you?”

 

“Have you seen Astoria? She hasn’t been home. I thought you might have spoken to her?”

 

“Uhhhhh, hmm… Astoria, you say?” Blaise called from the adjacent room, his study, she assumed.

 

Hermionse sensed danger… conflict. Her heart race picked up and her skin felt hyper sensitive.

 

“Right here, Darling,” Hermione’s jaw went slack as the ever gorgeous and impossibly long legged Astoria Malfoy strolled out, her hair piled up in a loose french twist and buttoning a men’s dress shirt over her breasts.

 

Astoria turned her icy glare on Hermione, who appeared to be attempting to catch lacewing flies with her mouth and her palm frozen in the air waiting for that stupid fucking key that she wished she would have just accio’d at this point.

 

“Astoria,” Draco sucked in a breath through his nose and ground his teeth, “What in the fuck are you doing here?”

 

“Don’t put on that jealous husband routine on my account, dear. I know you were shagging this little bint not but 48 hours ago,” she turned her head again towards Hermione, “You ought to shut your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch bugs if you leave it open it like that.”

 

Her mouth clamped shut.

 

So many questions bouncing around Hermione’s head and none that were at all appropriate to ask.

 

“BLAISE!” Draco shouted and Hermione’s eyes went wide, “Will someone please tell me what in the actual fuck is happening here?”

 

Blaise came out grimacing and dropped a key into Hermione’s hand, which she quickly closed around it.

 

“Well, mate--” Blaise started but Astoria quickly interjected.

 

“Well, once I found out that you were still fucking your little mistress here--” she glared at Hermione, “I decided I’d be the bigger person and let you out of this sham of a marriage. I’m sick of it, Draco. Sick of playing second string to _her._ So there, you’re free. I broke my marriage contract and you are free to have your galleons and your little muggleborn whore.”

 

“Astoria…” Blaise scolded, “She didn’t mean that last bit. I think she’d like you, Hermione, if she got to know you… which I doubt she will,” he winced.

 

Hermione hurried to her feet and started slamming her thumb into the elevator button. She would rather be forced to watch a pile of her favorite books burned in front of her than be subject to this marital dispute.

 

Draco hissed some profanity or another and snatched Astoria by the elbow and dragged her into another room.

 

Hermione started tapping her foot and watching the numbers at the top of the elevator approach the penthouse.

 

“Sorry, Granger,” Blaise came up and leaned against the doorframe of the elevator.

 

“I take it that girl you were in love with, the one that just didn’t seem to work out… I take it was Astoria Malfoy?” she asked in disbelief, “Why couldn’t you tell me that?”

 

“She asked me not to,” he shrugged, “She wanted a clean break and she wanted to try and make it work with Malfoy.”

 

“And Draco knew?!”

 

“Of course, that’s why I wasn’t the Best Man, of course,” he huffed, “Bullshit, if you ask me… I would have been much a better Best Man than Nott but it is what it is. I escaped to Austria and spent the entire weekend tied to the bedpost of a beautiful little Fraulein,” he flashed a grin at her.

 

“This is the most ridiculous, incestious group of people I’ve ever known!”

 

The elevator mercifully opened and Blaise chuckled to himself as she entered.

 

“GRANGER!” Draco reappeared but she thanked every deity listening when the door closed just before he could stop it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I don't get my final chapter to my beta she may skin me alive... so let's hope I can finish that up! 
> 
> I'm traveling to the beach tomorrow and won't be back until Tuesday but I'm going to attempt to keep posting during my down time. 
> 
> Wish me luck friends!
> 
> What do you think of the revelations in this chapter??


	16. Dating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, incase you didn't read the beginning note:
> 
> IN HUGE BOLD LETTERS: THERE IS A DIRECT QUOTE FROM THE NOTEBOOK IN THIS CHAPTER!! 
> 
> I am in no way intending to plagiarize, but I realized I was trying to rewrite something that was said perfectly.

Hermione dropped the key at the Magistar and finished out her work day in a daze. Her love life was going to take a toll on her work if she couldn’t separate all this. 

She ignored the whispers and stares on her way out of her office and got all the way to the Floo in tact. 

Flooing home felt different that day. There had been a crash of information and noise and chaos and her home felt uncomfortably still. She’d been existing in a constant state of mayhem and when it was absent, it felt wrong. 

She changed into her casual clothes and heated up some leftovers from a few nights ago. She ate in silence, the only sound was Crookshanks purring on the sofa behind her and her fork scraping the ceramic plate. 

She washed her dish the Muggle way and then grabbed herself a giant glass of wine and sat on her couch, facing the roaring fire that always reminded her of nights in the Gryffindor common room. 

She felt a wall melt away and she let her mind wander to all the spaces she’d been avoiding. 

Charlie. 

The guy she was supposed to want. The man who somehow oozed total masculinity while being kind and sensitive at the same time. 

Her biggest issue with Charlie, is that she knew she didn’t deserve him. She had done horrible things, she’d even done horrible things to him. And he didn’t deserve that, not after all the troubles he’d seen in his life. He deserved someone who would just love him in a simple and uncomplicated way. Someone who hadn’t seen so much death and caused so much hurt. 

He spent all his time saving Magical Creatures who couldn't advocate for themselves and he was passionate about bettering the world. 

Why wasn’t all that enough? Could she make it enough? Should she have to?

Draco was… complicated. 

And if she only had these past few months to base her decision off of, she would have written him off already. But she had seen a part of him in Colombia that she would have never imagined existed. 

There was a man underneath his pompous exterior who liked to cook breakfast and read over her shoulder. He enjoyed classic novels, even some Muggle authors and he surprisingly loved to cuddle. 

He challenged her and sparked her anger in a way that no one had before but he kissed away every argument and knew when to pull her close in a hug and tickle her sides until her anger melted away. 

But that version of Draco was a holiday. It was a bubble where everything that existed inside of it felt untrustworthy. What was he like when he’d had a long day at work or his parents were harassing him over holiday plans. 

She didn’t really know him… she didn’t really know Charlie for that fact either. 

There was a knock on the door that made her jump and she hurried over to it and peeked through the peephole. 

Draco. 

She took a deep breath and centered herself before opening it. 

“Hi, Granger.”

“Hey,” she said anti-climatically and winced. 

“Can we talk?”

“Um, sure,” she moved to the side and felt all at once self conscious at her small flat. It was cozy and untidy with books piled on every surface and mismatching textiles of every color. 

“I like your place,” he nodded, taking in the room. 

“Sure,” she laughed, “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” 

Her heart was racing and she returned to her corner of the couch, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and sliding it over her legs. 

“I want you to know that it’s officially over. Between Astoria and myself. When she slept with Blaise it violated our prenuptial agreement and I’m free from any obligations to her. She’s happy to leave our marriage amicably. Although, I don’t think she’ll ever be all that fond of you,” he smirked.

“Malfoy--”

“I hate when you call me that,” his upper lip curled up. 

“What?”

“Malfoy. You only call me that when you’re cross.”

“Well, maybe I’m cross… I don’t feel cross, but I just…” she struggled to find the words, “I don’t know you. I thought I knew you, I thought I fell in love with you… and here I am, I know nothing. I think I’ve stupidly built up those two weeks into something they weren’t. I’ve romanticized it to the point of no return and now, I’ve ruined your life and your marriage over it.”

“Granger, you haven’t ruined anything,” he rushed and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, “Those were the best two weeks of my life--”

“Malfoy…”

“Draco,” he corrected and she smiled. 

“Fine, Draco… I think too much has happened between us. We can’t get back… I mean, hell… nothing about us has ever been normal. We did everything ass backwards and then you got fucking married. I don’t know how--”

“Just… think about it. Please? Give me a shot, that’s all I’m asking. Let me take you on a date,” he smiled. 

“A date?!” she blurted. 

“Yea, it’ll be fun. You can put on that little red number from that night at the restaurant--”

“You remember what I was wearing?” she laughed. 

“I imagine that every wizard in that room remembers what you were wearing. Most people don’t forget the night you see the most beautiful girl in the world,” he smirked. 

“Oh, you sure know how to lay it on thick…” she rolled her eyes. 

“A date, then?” his eyebrows lifted happily. 

She chewed her lip and her eyes fell bashfully to her hands in her lap. 

“There is the matter of Charlie as well…”

“Ugh,” he groaned, “Another Weasley.”

“Stop that! Don’t forget YOU left ME, alright? You chose someone else--”

“--know full well that’s not the entire--”

“--and what did you expect? That I’d just sit here and turn old pining for you--”

“--don’t be so damn dramatic all the--”

“ENOUGH! How can you ever expect this to work? We can’t make it through a single conversation without fighting?”

“Well that's what we do! We fight! You tell me when I'm being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you're being a pain in the ass! Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings, you have like a two-second rebound rate and you're back doing the next pain in the ass thing.”

“You arrogant son of a--”

“See?” he laughed, “I know you, Granger. I love you,” his confession hit her in the belly and she wanted so badly to say those three words back to him. 

It wouldn’t be a lie, she didn’t think. But she wasn’t sure if she had anything left to give him. He had taken so much of her energy, of her heart… what had been left had been shredded and she somehow found a way to repair it, against all odds. 

So now what? Now that she had stitched her pieces back together, she just handed it back into the hands of the man who had done all the damage?

“I need some time. Time to think…”

She didn’t miss the sadness that kissed his eyes as she spoke but he nodded with a grim smile. 

“I understand,” he leaned in and kissed her cheek so lightly she was left wondering if it had even happened. 

\------

 

The next day she sat in the waiting room of the Auror Offices practically vibrating with anxiety. 

Finally, Harry stepped off the lifts and she snatched his elbow and turned him around and jabbed her hand at the elevator button. 

“You’re late,” she scolded. 

“I didn’t know I was being kept up on. What’s up? I’m not going down, I just got here,” he said with suspicious eyes as he watched Hermione stalk the elevator buttons. 

“We need coffee,” she said distractedly. 

“Uh, Hermione?” 

“What?!” she snapped. 

“I have coffee…” she looked at him to see his right hand was shaking a Ministry coffee cup at her. 

She snagged it and tossed it in the rubbish bin between the lifts. 

“WHAT THE--”

“We need FRESH coffee,” she amended. 

“You are kinda a pain in my ass, Hermione.”

“Hush.” 

The lift arrived and she dragged Harry on and was disgruntled to find that several other Ministry officials were aboard. 

“What’s going on, Hermione?”

“Just wait for coffee.”

Hermione tapped her foot the entire lift ride and practically jogged off until she sat in the Ministry commissary at a table in the far corner. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. 

“I thought we were getting coffee…”

“Oh, yea. We will, just sit down.”

“From the moment I laid on eyes on you today, I knew you were going to bug the shit out of me.”

“I need Ginny but Ginny has other things going on currently,” she smiled sadly at her friend, “So you’ve got to help me through this…”

“What’s going on?” Harry leaned in, concerned. 

“I have to decide between Charlie and Draco.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned and tried to stand up but Hermione’s hand shot out and grabbed his hand. 

“Please, Harry…”

“I can’t help you decide between two guys! Are you barking? How is this even something you are talking about.”

“What would you do?” she asked earnestly. 

“Well, I’d probably go with Charlie…” 

“Really?” her eyes filled with hope. 

“Well, I do have a thing for redheads…” he waggled his eyebrows and Hermione shoved him playfully, “Honestly, there’s no way I can help you decide this. Which one do you like more?”

“I don’t know! If I knew that, I wouldn’t be pestering you.”

Harry sighed into his hands. 

“How did you know with Ginny?” she asked earnestly. 

“There was never a question with Ginny,” Hermione felt the air leave her lungs, “Listen, if you don’t know by know… then you don’t know.”

“BRILLIANT!” she exclaimed and pushed away from the table. She was bounding for the lifts while Harry was shouting something about coffee at her back.

\-----

 

Hermione sat at a high top table at the Leaky cauldron her fingertips running the length of the stem of her wine glass again and again. 

She felt all fluttery and somehow totally out of control while in complete control. It was the most insane sensation. 

She heard the bell over the door ding and her eyes lifted up nervously. 

Charlie walked in, a red and black flannel adorning his marvelous chest. It was unbuttoned enough to reveal his chest hair and didn’t exactly hint at the muscles beneath, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His red fringe hung adorably in his eyes and he smiled widely at her and she returned it. 

He approached her and gave her a lingering kiss on her cheek that made the blood rush to the spot. 

“Hi, Charlie,” she smiled shyly. 

The door rung again and her eyes darted to see Draco stroll in. His robes were all black, even sporting a thin black tie against his charcoal button up. His hair was cropped short and styled messy. 

The right side of his mouth drew up into his signature smirk that made her knees feel weak even while sitting. 

As his eyes fell on the wide shoulders of Charlie his smirk turned quickly into a snarl as he approached the table they were standing at. 

“Granger… didn’t realize this was a group affair…” his eyes narrowed at his ginger rival. 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you both. This seemed the most fair way of it,” she blushed and finished the rest of her drink quickly. Draco lifted a finger to the bartender, signaling that she would like another, “Thank you,” she smiled. 

“I know you both have told me that I am the one with the decision to make… But I’ve realized, that I can’t.”

“Can’t?” they asked in unison, although Charlie’s voice was more confused and Malfoy’s was more affronted. 

“I don’t have all the information to make the right decision. I understand if this proposition isn’t something you would be interested in but I have to make it, nonetheless.”

“A… A proposition?” Charlie asked nervously. 

“Yes,” she chewed the inside of her cheek, “I’d like to propose that we date,” she lifted her chin confidently. 

“WHAT?! The… three of us?!” Draco panicked and she giggled into her hand as the bartender magically filled her glass. 

“OF COURSE NOT!” she protested, “Merlin… I just mean… I’d like to get you know both. Draco, our previous courtship was…” she flicked a nervous glance to Charlie, “tumultuous and rushed. I have no idea if we would even work out in an normal setting. Charlie, we’ve never really had the opportunity to actually date. 

I wouldn’t want to keep you guys on the line… I am proposing we go on three dates. At the end of which, if you haven’t gone running for the hills… I would decide. You can of course, choose not to see me at any time. I would understand and I don’t presume that I’m some mighty prize that you guys have to fight over or anything…”

“Hermione,” Charlie’s hand shot out to hold hers and he rubbed his thumb along the back, “Of course you are, I just don’t want to ever put you in an uncomfortable position.” 

Draco’s eyes were narrowed into tiny slits as he glared at Charlie Weasley’s face. 

“Weasley, no hard feelings if you need to back out now.”

Draco took a few steps towards her and braced his palm on the back of her chair. 

“I never said I was backing out,” Charlie’s chest puffed up, “Only that I didn’t want Hermione to feel uncomfortable,” he challenged. 

Draco scoffed.

“To be clear, this is NOT a competition!” Hermione elbowed Draco in the ribs, “Like I said, I understand if this isn’t something you’re interested in,” she said to no in particular. 

“Nope, totally interested,” Draco cracked his neck and Hermione identified it as a habit he did when he was agitated, “Can’t wait.”

“I’d love to take you out again, Hermione,” Charlie ignored him.

Draco made a noise in his throat and mocked Charlie’s words in a whiney voice. 

“Well, I’ve got some ground rules.”

“RULES?!” Draco objected. 

“Yes, rules! One, you two have to play nice. No bashing each other or fighting with each other. This is not a pissing contest, alright? Two, no sex.”

“Of course,” Charlie agreed. 

“So, no more sex?” Draco’s eyes glinted wickedly and Charlie’s jaw tightened so hard she thought she heard it crack. 

“VIOLATION OF RULE ONE!” Hermione shouted, her face red. 

“Sorry,” Draco lifted his hands up in surrender. 

“Can we agree on these rules?” 

“Agreed,” Charlie said, still salty. 

“Agreed,” Draco grumbled. 

“Agreed, then,” Hermione made an awkward little smile, “Until next time, boys.” 

She pushed away from the table and left her two suitors staring daggers at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are just blowing me away with reviews! Seriouslyyyyyyy! 
> 
> So! As I finish this story (looking like it's clocking in around 23-24 chapters or so, plus an epilogue) I realized there is another side of the story I desperately want to tell. 
> 
> I am thinking of having a one shot of Astoria's POV. It'll cover some of her Blaise, Draco coming home, their wedding and everything after. I have so many reviews about her and I desperately want you guys to know her like I feel I do. So I'll get to work on that! 
> 
> I also am outline a short Charmione, I don't even know how to write anything other than Dramione but for you all, I am going to try! 
> 
> What do you guys think of this chapter? 
> 
> Also, incase you didn't read the beginning note:
> 
> IN HUGE BOLD LETTERS: THERE IS A DIRECT QUOTE FROM THE NOTEBOOK IN THIS CHAPTER!! 
> 
> I am in no way intending to plagiarize, but I realized I was trying to rewrite something that was said perfectly.


	17. Cartagena

Unicorns. 

 

That’s where Hermione’s head was at. She had shoved her ridiculous boy problems to the side and thrown herself into finding protected herd lands for these 2 dozen Unicorn. 

 

“Susan!” she called and almost immediately Susan’s blonde head peeked in, “There was a case, about protected lands and centaurs. I think we can use that as precedent here.”

 

“You got it, boss!” she tapped her hand against the door frame and left. 

 

She had a meeting this afternoon regarding Dragonheart that she hadn’t even kind of prepared for and now Beatrice was pushing on the Unicorn issue. It was like she expected giant things from her now and the pressure from her boss made her feel dizzy. 

 

“Knock knock,” Blaise's familiar voice sounded. 

 

“Blaise?” she paled at the sight of him. 

 

“The one and the only. How’s it going, Granger?”

 

“Perfectly fine,” she bristled and started arranging her files, “Something I can do for you?”

 

“What’s with the stick up your ass, Granger? You’re acting like I’ve just seen you naked…”

 

“BLAISE!”

 

“What?” Blaise moved fluidly, like he had the first time they met, and settled into her office, “Nothing’s changed, Granger.”

 

“Everything’s changed,” she hissed. 

 

“Listen, Astoria and I…”

 

“How could you not tell me? That’s how you knew I was the girl from Colombia! Have you guys… the whole time?” she lifted her eyebrows in an innuendo. 

 

“Merlin, Draco is my mate! Probably my best. I wouldn’t shag around with his wife,” Blaise clucked. 

 

“...But you did…”

 

“Well... only in a specific circumstance. Listen, Astoria came to me and needed a way out of this marriage. She can’t just leave, another beautiful little line of the Pureblood Marriage laws. She was in hysterics, she wanted out, Draco cheated… We… well, we have a history. Of course, I’d sleep with her.”

 

“You never told me it was her.”

 

“Why would I?”

 

“I thought we were friends…”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. My little Gryffindor… friends doesn't mean you are owed anything. It is what it is… Astoria and I dated for almost a year. Yes, we loved each other. Yes, I knew what I was getting myself into. We were stupid… naive… we thought we could, hell, I don’t know what we thought. But we were stupid. Draco came back and was all swept up in love and holiday memories and he asked for help… when we couldn’t figure it out, I left. I couldn't watch them get married, it would have gutted me. I  _ do _ love her,” he took a long sobering breath, “I came back, I agreed to work with the bastard and I kept on keeping on.”

 

“You don’t care that they were married?”

 

“Well, Granger, from what I understand, they had horrible marital consummation for one night… Besides, you’re coming from a mighty high horse right now… all things considered,” he eyed her playfully. 

 

Hermione sat up straighter, the blood rushing to her cheeks.

 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she tilted her chin up. 

 

“That means, you are the other woman here,” he laughed, “You did a bad, bad thing, Granger.”

 

“Yes, well… I’m not exactly proud of myself.”

 

“You and I are in the same club, Granger,” his lips turned up at her. 

 

“Club?”

 

“Yea, Dirty Little Mistresses Club,” he said conspiratorially. 

 

“Have I told you how much I detest you?” she eyed him. 

 

“Not today,” he laughed, “Anyway, just popping in to say hello! Don’t be a stranger.”

 

And as quickly as his chaos had descended, it left. 

 

\-----

 

The next two days passed uneventfully. Hermione tried not to think about her potential courtships but the longer it went with no one bloody contacting her, it was near impossible. 

  
Had she not been clear? Had she misspoken in some way? Or had they just wisened up and decided not to get involved any further in this horribly messy love triangle. 

 

Not that she could blame them if it were the latter. 

 

She basically asked to be courted and given them a 50/50 chance of getting the right to her hand. What kind of barbaric, medieval arrangement had she offered them?

 

She groaned loudly at the files on her desk and then smacked her head against the wooden desk. 

 

“Are you ill, Granger?” she yelped and started rubbing the spot on her head where she had whacked her skull. 

 

“Maybe…” she allowed and winced at the tall blond in her door frame. 

 

“I brought you a coffee,” he walked in and deposited the paper cup onto her desk. 

 

“This is the cafe near my flat,” she noticed the logo on the sleeve, “Why on earth did you travel all the way there?”

 

“I assumed you enjoyed their coffee,” he shrugged, “You normally bring that coffee in, rather than get it from the office.”

 

“Oh,” she felt like cold water had been dumped on her head, “Draco, that’s so thoughtful. Thank you,” she stood and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. 

 

He shifted nervously from foot to foot. 

 

“Are you feeling alright?”

 

“Of course,” he rushed, “Sorry, this is just bloody awkward. I’ve never felt so nervous around you…” she smiled as the smallest blush graced his cheeks. 

 

“I feel weird too… I thought when you both hadn’t contacted me--”

 

“Weasels not gotten ahold of you either?!” he interrupted and she winced. 

 

“I don’t think it’s right for me to discuss my courtship--”

 

“--Or lack thereof…” he waggled his eyebrows and she saw some of her old familiar Draco come back. 

 

She laughed, “Or lack thereof… with you. It’s improper.”

 

“Well, I haven’t been in contact for a very good reason. A gentlemanly reason, some would say,” he kicked the door shut with his heel and then wrapped his arms around her waist. 

 

“And what is this reason you have for making me pull my hair out the last two days?”

 

He leaned his face down and his lips brushed her ears, his warm breath ghosting over her and causing goosebumps to spread down her body, “I’m divorced,” he whispered with a smile. 

 

“What?!” she exclaimed, “How in the world could that happen so quickly? Doesn’t it take months?”

 

He released her and sat down in casually in the chair in front of her desk, slinging his ankle over his knee and resting his elbow on the back of the chair. 

 

“She violated our prenuptial agreement,” he shrugged. 

 

“What does that mean for her?” she asked, feeling a sudden urge of protectiveness for the former Mrs. Malfoy. 

 

“By law, she gets nothing and must return to her parent’s home.”

 

“WHAT?!” she shrieked. 

 

“Of course, I’m not a complete ass…” he said smugly, “Our financial advisor at Gringotts set her up with some alimony. She’ll be fine until she decides to marry Blaise and she’ll have a flat in London paid for.”

 

Hermione couldn’t name the emotion she was feeling, it was a cocktail of jealousy and pride that didn’t sit well in her stomach. 

 

“You keep surprising me today, Malfoy,” she quipped and returned to her seat. 

 

“When can I see you?”

 

“You are seeing me right now,” she laughed and picked up a file. 

 

His face flattened, “You know full well what I mean, Granger.”

 

“I’m free next week,” she bit back a smile as she stared at her brief. 

 

“Bollocks!” 

 

“Alright, alright…” she conceded, “I could make time for you tonight, I suppose…”

 

“That’s more like it! I’ll pick you up at 7!”

 

“Mmmhmm,” she waved him off nonchalantly and he rounded her desk quickly and turned her chair to face him. He used his pointer finger to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze and pressed his lips against hers. It was almost playful and she smiled against his lips. 

 

“See you tonight, Granger,” he whispered, still nose to nose with her. 

 

“See you,” she breathed. 

 

He turned quickly on his heel and was gone before she could gather her thoughts. 

 

\-----

 

Hermione never really dated… There had been Viktor, Cormac, if you could count that. Ron, which was the farthest thing from dating she had ever imagined. A few french boys who took her out and kissed her senseless and then, Draco. 

 

Draco had been a tornado that swept her up and left her in a wreck. 

 

And of course, Charlie. Who never really got her full attention because her heart was always elsewhere… funny, how he still didn’t get her full attention now. 

 

Guilt prickled at her belly and she swallowed it whole. He was a big boy, he could make his own decisions. She wasn’t about to make any life altering choices until she had all the information. Maybe it was unfair to him, but she wasn’t demanding that he stay. 

 

At least, these were all the things she told herself when her demons started shouting at her. 

 

She was starting to worry about him as she finished getting ready for her date with Draco. She had opted for the red dress he had been so smitten with. The one with the full tulle skirt and the scalloped neckline. 

 

An owl hooted from the perch outside her living room window and she rushed over to open the door, a gush of autumn air sweeping into her tiny flat. 

 

It was a small gray owl with violet eyes and it seemed to her, a little twitchy. She giggled as it snapped it’s eyes back and forth, taking in the layout of her flat. 

 

“Hello, there,” her fingers quickly removed the small scroll tied to the birds leg and offered it a treat pellet from the jar near the window. 

 

_ Hermione,  _

 

_ I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact. There was an issue in Romania and I had to rush back to the Sanctuary. Everything is okay and I’ll fill you in when I return to London. This is the first chance I had to get word out.  _

 

_ Dinner Thursday? _

 

_ Miss you.  _

 

_ Charlie _

 

Hermione’s brows furrowed at the note. An issue? 

 

An issue so pressing that he had to rush back to Romania. She hated to be left in the dark but would have to settle for this limited knowledge until Friday. 

 

_ Charlie,  _

 

_ I do hope everything is okay. I was starting to worry and I’m glad to hear you’re safe.  _

 

_ Dinner Thursday it is! _

_   
_ _ Tell Annie I miss her.  _

 

_ And while you’re at it, tell yourself too. _

 

_ H _

 

She grinned at the parchment and began rolling it up when the knock came at the door. She rushed to the door and slipped on her heels to complete the ensemble and opened it breathlessly. 

 

“Draco!” she greeted cheerfully.

 

He was dressed impeccably in a charcoal gray suit with a slender black tie. He held in his a short stemmed white rose bud and extended it to her. 

 

She took it and gave him a wary eye, “You know I’m starting to not recognize you… All this chivalrous romance…” she stepped aside so he could enter. 

 

“I’m insulted, truly,” he played like she’d stabbed her in the heart. 

 

“Not likely,” she rolled her eyes, “Just one moment and I’ll be ready to go.”

 

She continued to roll the bit of parchment and walked over to her bench in the alcove and tied it to the owls leg. 

 

She offered it another treat and it hooted happily and took off into the night. 

 

“Ok! Let me grab my cloak!” 

 

Draco’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Who was that to?”

 

She laughed and gave him a glare over her shoulder, “Do you always ask such private questions?”

 

“Yes,” he said firmly, “I don’t like this.”

 

She swung her cloak around her shoulders and gave him a playful raise of her brows. 

 

“Jealous?”

 

“You have no idea,” he gritted through clenched teeth, “I’m an only child, Granger. And a rather spoilt one at that… I don’t share well.”

 

She approached him carefully and placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his thin shirt as he looked down at her with such intensity she felt her own heart rate spike. 

 

“I understand if this is too much… Trust me, I’ve been second guessing myself this entire time. But I can’t just walk away from either of you without being sure. I know it’s selfish and vapid and--”

 

“I get it, Granger,” he said quickly. 

 

“You do?”

 

“Let me get one thing through to you though… I’m not walking away. Not ever. I’m in this and the only way I’m leaving you again, is if you leave me. So don’t worry about that, okay?”

 

His confession caused a lump to swell in her throat and tears pricked her eyes. 

 

He kissed her lightly on her forehead and let his hands trail from her upper arms down to her hands. 

 

“I’m sorry --” she started and he cut her off quickly. 

 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s my fault. I should have… well, I should have done a lot of things differently,” he swallowed thickly, “Anyway, enough time for that later. Have I told you how  incredibly stunning you look tonight?”

 

“No, actually,” she tried to hide a smile. 

 

“Well, I’ve been remiss. You are the most beautiful witch I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he kissed her again, this time on the lips and she felt her back arch into him. 

 

“Thank you. You don’t clean up so bad yourself, Malfoy.”

 

He gave her a snarky glare at the use of his last name. 

 

“Hungry?”

 

“Famished, actually.”

 

“I know just the place,” he reached into his robes and brought out a small item wrapped in a silk handkerchief. 

 

She stared at it curiously and when he unwrapped it, there was a small porcelain dragon figurine in his hand. 

 

He checked his timepiece and then, as if on cue, it started glowing. 

 

“Where are we going?!” 

 

“Scared, Granger?” he challenged her with a smirk and she narrowed her eyes. 

 

“Said the snake to the lion,” and she lifted her fingers to touch the portkey. 

 

\-----

 

She knew these sounds. Knew these smells. 

 

It was like she had been immersed into a memory and her eyes darted around the darkness they arrived in. 

 

She could hear lively music and laughter and authentic cuisine filled her nostrils. 

 

“Draco… you didn’t,” she grinned. 

 

“Welcome back to Cartagena,” he wrapped his arms around her from behind and planted a kiss on her neck. 

 

He walked them forward and the bright colors of the painted buildings and the soul of the city crashed on her like a wave. 

 

“You’re crazy,” she laughed, “You paid for a Portkey just to take me on a date.” 

 

“Oh hoh hoh, Granger… you have no idea the frivolous things I am willing to spend my money on…”

 

“You’re completely ridiculous. Have I told you that?”

 

“Let’s go,” he nodded his head towards a small cafe where he had once spun her around the dance floor barefoot until she forgot all those awful childhood taunts and only saw him for the man he had become. 

 

He held his hand out to her and she smiled fondly at her silver eyed boy, taking it happily. 

 

\-----

“Come on, Malfoy. Indulge me!”

 

“Fine then,” he waved his hand dismissively. 

 

“Favorite Color?”

 

He made an annoyed face at her, “Green, of course. Yours?”

 

“Purple.”

 

“Really?” he raised a brow. 

 

“Yes,” she laughed, “I didn’t grow up knowing I’d be a Gryffindor, remember? But I don’t like that light lavender color, it has to be closer to Plum or Eggplant.”

 

“Interesting,” he nodded, and she couldn’t tell if he meant it or was simply appeasing her. 

 

“Your turn,” she nudged him. 

 

“Ugh, I don’t know…”

 

Hermione felt a stab of insecurity, “You’re right.. It’s stupid,” she shook her head. 

 

“Favorite sweet from Honeydukes?” he said after a moment, finally agreeing to play along.

 

“I don’t fancy many sweets… but… I guess I’d indulge on a Cauldron Cake once in awhile,” she grinned maniacally, “You?”

 

“All.”

 

“All? That’s not a proper answer…” she laughed. 

 

“No, seriously. I’ve quite the sweet tooth… Mum used to scold the hell out of me for sneaking them before dinner. I was such an awful little git, I would demand the House Elves to provide me with treats,” he laughed to himself, “Eventually my Mother forbade them from giving them to me.”

 

“You’re just awful,” she bit on her bottom lip to keep from smiling and then her face fell in seriousness, “How is she? Your mother?”

 

Draco cleared his throat, “Um, she’s good.”

 

“We don’t have to talk about it, you know.”

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. 

 

“So, favorite Christmas tradition?” she said cheerily. 

 

“Where do you come up with these questions?!”

 

“My favorite was that right before bed on Christmas Eve, my dad would sit in this giant chair next to the tree. We would read The Night Before Christmas. When I was small, my mum would perch on the arm of the chair and I’d snuggle into the crook of his arm. When I outgrew that I would sit at his feet…. He always did the most outrageous voices.”

 

There was a long moment of sad silence as her mind drifted to her parents and he seemed to sense her mind was elsewhere. 

 

“My favorite was on Christmas Eve as well,” her cheeks lifted into a smile and he rolled his eyes at her, “My parents would let me pick out any gift from under the tree to open. I always took such care trying to find the perfect one and somehow, it was always awful. Every. Single. Year. It became a joke as I got older, I would always pick a pair of socks  or a sweater...Sounds weird that I would enjoy that,” he laughed, lost in a memory, “But my dad always got a kick out of my annoyed response. It was probably one of the only times in the whole year I would hear him laugh.”

 

“I wonder if they used magic to make sure you never received a good gift?” she mused with a cheeky smile. 

 

Realization dawned on his face, “I didn’t even consider that! Bastard,” he cursed, but no malice in his voice. 

\-----

 

“It’s a Muggle game! It’s fun, I swear! Just give me a Knut…” 

 

“I’ve played these ridiculous Muggle games with you before, Granger. They are rarely fun. Especially for you, as I always best you.”

 

“Just give me a knut!” she held out her hand impatiently. 

 

“I don’t have a knut!”

 

“You didn’t bring money?”

 

“I have Galleons, you twit. I’m not a pauper, I don’t travel with a school boy’s pocket change--”

 

“--You’re infuriating. A Galleon will do, just fork it over.”

 

“I thought your feminist agenda kept you from letting me pay for dates. You mean to say you’ve arrived to dinner with no money?” he fished in his robes for a small satchel of coins. 

 

“Shut it, Malfoy,” she growled and he landed the entire satchel in her open palm. She opened it quickly and fished out a single galleon and adjusted the shot glass in front of her. It was full of amber liquid and she closed one eye and concentrated on bouncing the galleon into the shot glass. 

 

She missed horribly, with the Galleon rolling off the bar and onto the floor. 

 

“Did you win?” he drawled. 

 

“Yes, the point is to miss the glass. How did you guess?” she snarled.

 

He chuckled to himself and leaned down to grab the Galleon. 

 

He bounced it effortlessly into the glass, the liquid sloshing up the sides and onto the bartop and her jaw dropped. 

 

“You prat!”

 

“What?” he laughed as she struck him playfully in the arm. 

 

“Did I win? It didn’t miss the cup or roll onto the floor? What do I win?”

 

“Nothing, you win nothing. That’s the end of the game,” she lied quickly. 

 

“Oh, come off it, Granger! I think… if my skills at deduction are correct… that you have to drink this shot. Am I wrong?”

 

“You’re an ass,” she stuck her tongue out at him and then tipped the shot glass to her lips, only able to take half of it before doing a little shoulder shimmy at the burn in her throat. 

 

\-----

  
  


The music had been just as entrancing as she remembered. She hadn’t romanticized this little place one bit. 

 

He swung her around to the beat and pressed his hips against hers, she laughed with her head tilted back and her heels kicked off to the side. 

 

\-----

  
  


They shut the restaurant down… again. She giggled into him as he laughed and spoke in fluent Spanish, mimicking an old drunken man that had grabbed them by the back of the necks and slurred something about how perfect the pair of them were together. 

 

Draco led them down the street, a familiar walk to the one they had taken all those months ago and led her to the door of Senora Carmen. He produced a small brass key and her heart stopped. 

 

“Draco…” she started, panicking. 

 

“Oh stop it, Granger. I remember your blasted rules,” he groaned, “But, we are in no condition to travel magically tonight. The portkey is set for 6:00 in the morning, we will be back in London before you know it. And I’ve got this!” he reached into his robes again and produced a vial of purple liquid. Hangover potion. 

 

She fidgeted with her necklace, twisting the small pendant on the chain. 

 

“I don’t know…” 

 

“I’ll sleep on the couch if that makes you feel better. I just... “ he sighed, “I wanted to bring you back here tonight. So you could remember the beginning before things got sideways. But, I’m not about to make us vomit or get us splinched through travel. So, let’s go upstairs and sleep. I’ll get you home bright and early.”

 

“Draco…” she whined. It wasn’t that he was doing anything inappropriate, it’s that she didn’t know how to separate her what she wanted from what she needed. She wasn’t good at this, if her history had anything to say about it. She wanted badly to drag him into bed and snog him breathlessly… but she knew it wasn’t the right choice. 

 

“You forget, Granger. I’m a very strict rule follower...unlike yourself,” he grinned, “Captain of the Inquisitorial Squad, I’d hoped you remember.”

 

His chest popped up proudly and he smiled down at her. 

 

She giggled into her palm, “How could I forget? Ever the shining example of due diligence.”

 

“Sleep then?”

 

“Okay. Sleep,” she leaned into him and they climbed the stairs of Senora Carmen’s. 

 

\-----

 

She woke, surrounded by white mosquito netting and the sun barely beginning it’s ascent into the sky. 

 

She made a guttural noise as she smacked her lips and wished she had water to chase away the taste of hangover in her mouth. 

 

She sat up in bed and stretched the sleep from her spine, her arms lifting up into the air. 

 

“Good! You’re up!” Draco said brightly from the door. 

 

“Ugh,” she grimaced, “Why so loud?”

 

“Take these,” he tossed two vials at her, the hangover potion she remembered from the night before and a Pepper Up. 

 

“Bless you, Draco Malfoy.”

 

He chuckled and brought in a tray with a bagel, bacon, eggs and a large glass of water that she snagged and drank as if she had been dying of thirst. 

 

“Thank you, I feel better already,” she took a large bite of bacon and smiled back at him, “Did you sleep on the couch?”

 

“I did,” his gray eyes calm, “Happy to.”

 

She licked her lips and smiled to herself. 

 

“When can I see you again?” 

 

It was happening...here, in the same room, in the same city. 

 

She was falling madly in love with Draco Malfoy, again. 

\--------------

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed yesterday folks! The beach is beautiful and tomorrow is my birthday!! 
> 
> Love hearing all your thoughts and predictions! Please keep them coming!
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione had agreed to meet Draco for coffee on Friday morning after his meeting in the Auror Department. 

 

As she exited the lifts and made her way towards the commissary she spotted Blaise and Malfoy speaking with Harry near the cafe tables. She panicked slightly, but was thankful that Theo wasn’t amongst them. She really wasn’t sure how much he had shared with the people closest to him and she wasn’t going to push it. Especially considering she hadn’t made him any promises about a future. 

 

“Hello,” she said timidly to the three boys and while Harry’s face flattened a bit, the other two boys smiled brightly at her. 

 

“Granger,” Draco greeted and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, “Boys, I’ll talk to you later,” and he lead Hermione to a cafe table nearby. 

 

Draco pulled her chair for her and then retrieved their beverages.

 

“You should’ve let me take you to a proper cafe. This tea is shit,” he made a face as he drank from his paper cup, “My mother would have an absolute fit about drinking from a cup like this.”

 

“Pretentious,” she mumbled playfully. 

 

“Cultured,” he challenged with a smirk, “Anyway, speaking of my mother, there is something I want to talk about--”

 

“--Do you see what I see, Potter?” she could hear Blaise chuckling behind her, “Fancy a bet?”

 

“--Prophet picked it up, which was expected… but I’m not sure how it will affect--” Malfoy was still speaking, his thumb picking at the cardboard sleeve on his to go cup, he was nervous. 

 

“--What’s the bet?” Harry chimed in. 

 

Hermione winked one eye, trying to focus on what Malfoy was saying, because it was clearly important. 

 

“--Sorry, what was that last bit?” she grimaced. 

 

“--Just that, it’s going to be in the papers… so I did have to tell--”

 

“--10 Galleons: Chuck takes it like a man and turns his ass around.”

 

“--Not bloody likely. I’ll take that bet… that man’s a Gryffindor. He won’t back down--” Harry chuckled.

 

“And so  _ when _ I told her,” Draco swallowed thickly, “She asked to meet you…”

 

“OH HOH HOH!” Harry gloated and she could hear slap the back of his hand off Blaises chest. 

 

“What are you two babbling about?! Do you know I can hear every blasted word you say? You’re ruining my ---” Hermione snapped over her shoulder.

 

“Hello, there,” Charlie’s accented voice purred and Hermione whipped around, wide eyed. 

  
“Charlie!” she exclaimed in shock and horror at the awkward scene quickly playing out. 

 

“Hermione,” he smiled, one hand on the back of Draco’s chair who was now sitting stiff as a board with a clenched jaw. 

 

“You’re back!” she fussed with her hair, a nervous habit as her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them.

 

“I am and anxious for our date this evening,” he flashed her a brilliant smile and Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks. 

 

“Did you have a meeting here?” she gulped, feeling so bloody uncomfortable she wanted to shed her outer layer of skin and never look back. 

 

“Of sorts, I was coming to see you.”

 

“She’s a bit busy at the moment, Weasel. Don’t you have a cage to clean somewhere?” Draco stood. She sensed he felt uncomfortable being lower than Charlie, because when he stood he straightened his spine and squared his shoulders, although he still wasn’t quite as tall as Charlie. 

 

“Well, that’s kind of why I’m here… Annie’s here.” 

 

“What?!” she ghosted a laugh, “That’s impossible!”

 

“It’s not,” he joined her laughing, “She’s been granted temporary housing and I’m on my way to get her settled. I spoke to Waterstone and she said I should bring you along… I mean, if you’re free,” he tightened his eyes at Draco and gave him a lopsided, lazy smile. 

 

“Oh my gosh! Of course,” she rushed and then retreated, “I mean, you understand, right, Draco? It’s for work. It’s just, I have so much to learn--”

 

“It appears, so do I,” he clicked his jaw and slid her chair out for her. 

 

“Thank you, for the coffee,” she smiled. 

 

“Pay up, Zabini--” she heard Harry chuckle. 

 

“Shut up, you two! Why are you even lurking here!” she whipped around. 

 

“Free entertainment, Granger,” Blaise beamed. 

 

“I’ll talk to you soon, Draco. I am sorry about this… Can we finish this conversation later?” 

 

He nodded and Hermione could see the hurt in his eyes. She wanted desperately to cup his cheek and kiss him. To comfort him in some way… 

 

But that wasn’t appropriate. 

 

None of this was appropriate. But she had called the game and set the rules. She knew Draco could at any moment walk away if it was too much. She only prayed he wouldn’t. 

 

A little flame lit in her belly as she realized how devastating it would be if Draco said he was done and the flame grew as it dawned on her that it wouldn’t be quite so devastating if it was Charlie who left her. 

 

She mused that that was probably important information. Information she would need to think about in depth...later. 

 

For now there was Annie. 

\-----

 

They apparated quickly to the Scottish countryside and arrived in a flurry of magic and smoke. 

 

“I should warn you,” he turned to her, his eyes downtrodden, “Annie’s not in good shape…”

 

“What do you mean?!”

 

“That’s why I was called back. The overpopulation has become quite an issue and Annie was cohabitating with another, younger, male dragon.”

 

“Charlie, what’s happened?” she paled. 

 

“She’s alright, the other Dragon was just a bit aggressive with his space. She’s been granted some temporary relief here and I’ll be tending to her. There’s a cave here where she can be concealed, hopefully, until the new sanctuary is up and running.”

 

“That could take a year, maybe more… I thought you said she wasn’t used to living in the wild,” Hermione could feel a chill in the air and it made her shiver. 

 

He flattened his lips into a smile and looked at her softly, “She’ll be alright. I’ll be here helping here for now and if we run into issues, I’ll bring her back to Romania. Hopefully by then some of the other Dragons will have been rehabilitated.”

 

“I don’t like this.”

 

“Yea, me either… but that other Dragon can’t be released into the wild just yet and Annie has technically nothing wrong with her, other than her most recent injuries. Which aren’t life threatening and she is a docile Dragon, she’s not at risk to others. She doesn’t  _ need _ to be in the Sanctuary. It wasn’t a tough call for the boss.”

 

Hermione nodded but her mind was running with different ways she could help Annie. There had to be an answer. 

 

Charlie wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze and started walking, their hips bumping into each other as they entered the massive cave, a few torches attached to the walls and leading their way. 

 

It wasn’t long until they saw Annie in the corner, curled up on herself. 

 

Hermione’s breath left her in a gasp. 

 

“Oh, Annie…”

 

There were jagged flesh wounds down her sides that seemed to have been bandaged and possibly magically healed, although not fully… not by a long shot. 

 

Annies large opal eyes rolled towards Hermione and blinked slowly before closing and returning to a sleep-like state. 

 

Hermione walked up to her nose and kneeled before her, almost like she used to at the altar in church, her knees tucked under her. 

 

“Beautiful girl, what happened?” she whispered. 

 

Charlie approached her then and leaned against Annie’s front leg, Annie nuzzled him and the sight of a Dragon tamer and his Dragon made her heart swell. 

 

“What are the risks of her being in the wild?” Hermione swallowed, staring at the open wound on her snout, her mind going into research mode.

 

“That she wouldn’t be able to eat, find water, stay concealed… she could be hunted, as other than her feral instincts, she doesn’t have much self-preservation skill. But I’ll be checking on in her, hopefully teach her how to hunt safely… There is a water source here, so that helps.”

 

“I know we were supposed to have our date tonight, but I’m not sure I’m ready to leave her…” 

 

Annie’s tail flicked and Hermione was sure she could hear the slightest of snores coming from her nostrils. 

 

“Somehow, I figured that…” Charlie smiled and withdrew his wand, “Accio Basket.”

 

From the darkness, a picnic basket appeared and landed in the space between them. 

 

“Charlie Weasley! You charming devil,” she smiled at him. 

 

“You know, I would hate to ruin the mood and bring up Ron… but please tell me he at least never did anything like this? Somehow, I think I’m more insecure about repeating a date that my slovenly younger brother may have tried than I am competing with Malfoy, ” He started unpacking the basket and in front of them were candles, wine and assorted meats, cheeses and breads. She eyed  a box of truffles that made her mouth fill will drool but she pried her eyes from it. 

 

“Um, no,” she laughed, “His idea of a date was eating a pizza on the couch… did I mention he also invited Harry?”

 

Charlie threw his head back and laughed, it echoed around the cave and she realized how much she enjoyed it. His laugh was deep and masculine, only erupting from him in extreme cases of happiness. 

 

“I can assure you, eating a picnic by candlelight in a dragon’s cave  _ with a dragon  _ is by far a first.”

 

“Brilliant,” he said with an effortless charm. 

 

He lit the candles with a wave of his wand and then levitated them. As he unwrapped a cheesecloth of different slices of meat, Annie’s eyes lifted slowly open, her nostrils flared. 

  
  
  
  


“Uh Uh Uh… You already ate!” he scolded her and she seemed to furrow her eyelids before closing them again. 

 

Hermione giggled and reached forward to pop a grape in her mouth and chew it happily. 

 

“How was Romania?” 

 

“Pretty good. Davidson offered me a pretty unreal job opportunity…”

 

“Oh?” 

 

“He offered me the lead on the UK Sanctuary,” Charlie grinned, “Which means, I’d be moving back to England.”

 

Why did her heart feel like that at his words? She couldn’t place it but it definitely felt… conflicted, twisted... 

 

“Charlie!” she gushed, her voice bright, “That’s incredible! I’m so happy for you!”

 

“Yea, it’s pretty incredible.”

 

“What did you tell him?!”

 

“I told him I’d think on it…”

  
“Really? Seems like something you’d jump on!”

 

“Well… there are a few layers of complexity to consider,” his eyes quickly averted to his hands as they reached for a some cheese, “My family, for one. Love them… but Sunday dinners aren’t something I’m willing to commit to,” he gave her a crooked smile, “Plus, the job isn’t exactly why I got into Dragons. It’s a ton of bureaucracy and paperwork… meetings and budgets. I want to make a difference--”

 

“Oh, Charlie, you would be! You would be making a huge difference in all of Europe!”

 

“Yea, but it’s not just how I imagined… Which is fine, maybe the vision I’ve had for myself all this time isn’t what’s meant for me. Maybe it is. But I’m not ready to decide that right now. Told him I needed to test the waters a bit,” he shifted uncomfortably. 

 

It hit her like the Hogwarts Express. 

 

That’s exactly what she was doing… Trying to decide between two sides of herself that were playing tug of war, her heart stuck in the middle and being tossed from side to side as the game played on. 

 

She nodded quietly but felt a sweat break out over her palms. 

 

“So, tell me more about you before you found out you were a witch,” he turned to her cheerfully. 

 

\-----

  
  


Charlie side-apparated her home and kissed her tenderly on her front stoop. 

 

Hermione walked up the stairs with a heavy trudge in her steps. A decidedly different feeling than after her date with Malfoy. 

 

Everything felt a bit off and she didn’t know how to move forward from here. Charlie had been a complete gentleman; sweet, romantic and considerate. 

 

_ What was wrong with her? _

 

Seriously. What was her aversion to the good guys? 

 

It wasn’t that Draco wasn’t a good one. But in so many ways he was the wrong one. He was fickle, jealous, hot tempered, cynical and cranky. But in each of those qualities she found this adorable endearing nature. 

 

It would lead to a lifetime of challenges and arguments over things that shouldn’t matter. He probably dog-eared books and didn’t leave his tea cup on a saucer. 

  
Charlie wouldn’t do those things. She would leave a life of easy adventure, raising dragons and living in the countryside. She would have dinner with her best friends and surrogate family once a week and have little curly, red haired babies. 

 

But there was something missing. Something that she couldn’t put her finger on… 

 

She fell asleep on her couch without changing from her work clothes or washing her face. She’d had a perfectly wonderful night and for some reason, it wasn’t enough. 

 

\------

 

Hermione stared at the moving photo on the front page of the Prophet Saturday morning with a grimace. 

 

Draco was holding his hand up to hide from the flash as he blinked and scowled. 

 

“MALFOY’S FILE FOR DIVORCE!”

 

_ After a mere handful of months, Draco and Astoria Malfoy, nee Greengrass, have officially been granted a divorce.  _

 

_ Due to the strict regulations of standard Pureblood nuptials, this reporter can only surmise what brought this short-lived union to such an abrupt end.  _

 

_ Was Astoria unfaithful? Did she challenge the senior Lady Malfoy? Has Draco taken a lover?  _

 

_ I have on good authority, from an unnamed source, that Draco Malfoy’s heart is now in the tender care of Hermione Granger, War Heroine and best friend to Draco’s long time arch-rival, Harry Potter.  _

 

_ The possibilities are quite literally endless and this reporter won’t give up until we have the full scoop! _

 

_ All parties have declined to comment.  _

 

Hermione groaned and shoved the paper across the table. 

 

Who in the actual hell leaked that news? There was only a handful of people who even know about it. 

 

There was a knock on her door and she jumped. 

 

She was still in her loose sweats and tank that she had slept in. Her hair a mess piled up on her head. 

 

She looked through the peephole and panicked as she saw Draco standing there, looking strikingly similar to a Greek God carved in cold marble. 

 

She looked like she’d been dragged through a field. 

 

She chewed on her lip and then let out a sigh, she wasn’t going to ignore him. 

 

She wiped the corners of her eyes and pinched her cheeks before whipping the door open. 

 

Draco looked at her with an arched brow. 

 

“Morning, Granger,” he drawled. 

 

“Good morning! Come in,” she said cheerfully and stepped to the side. 

 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt anything…”

Draco walked in calmly, but his eyes darted back and forth looking for something… or someone. 

 

“Interrupt?” 

 

“Didn’t know if your date ran into the next day…”

 

‘You did  _ not _ come here just to check and make sure Charlie wasn’t here. That’s ridiculous!”

 

“You’re right, I came to talk to you. But first,” his disposition cleared, satisfied there weren’t any Weasleys in her bed, “Here,” he produced a small package, wrapped in brown paper. 

 

“A gift?”

 

“Well, I was going to bring you flowers… but I thought this was more you,” he started walking around her tiny flat, leaning in to peek at all her photos, squinting at some of the older ones. 

 

Her hands moved quickly to remove the wrapping and a small leather bound book was hiding beneath. 

 

“The History of Muggleborns,” she read aloud. 

 

“It’s rather good,” he shrugged, peeking at the books stacked on her end table. 

 

“You’ve read this?” surprise coloring her voice. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you brought it to me? Instead of flowers? Because you thought I’d enjoy it more?”

 

“Yes. Was I incorrect?”

 

“Not at all,” she breathed and flipped the cover open and scanned the table of contents. The book covered the first appearances of Muggleborns, there was a section on the theory of magic as well as famous Muggleborns throughout history, “It’s brilliant. Thank you,” she walked over and raised up on her toes so she could kiss him quickly. She didn’t miss the blush that stained his cheeks. 

 

“You’re quite welcome,” he said simply. 

 

“Have you eaten? Would you like to stay for brunch?”

 

“A bunch of what?” his eyebrows sat low and scrunched over his nose. 

 

Hermione giggled, “Brunch is a late breakfast or early lunch, however you want to view it. Like a combination meal.”

 

“Why wouldn’t you just call it a late breakfast or early lunch?”

 

“I don’t know,” she replied with exasperation.

 

“Brunch seems a bit ridiculous.”

 

“It’s just what Muggles call it. You drive me nuts, you know that?” she stomped over to her fridge and yanked the door open. She started pushing things aside so that she could pull out things for breakfast and felt Draco’s hands wrap tightly around her waist. 

 

“You drive me crazy too,” he nuzzled into her neck, “But in all the right ways.”

 

She rolled her eyes and smiled to herself, turning her face into him and resting her forehead on his cheek. 

 

“I’m sorry about the paper this morning,” she said softly and felt his arms tense around her. 

 

“You saw?”

 

“Yes and I know how much I hate being in the spotlight. If it’s the same for you, I’m sure this is annoying at best.”

 

“It’s frustrating but it never should have happened in the first place, so I’ve no one to blame but myself. I never should have married her,” he shrugged in defeat, “What’s done is done. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

 

“I have no idea who would have leaked that bit about me… I’ve only told Ginny and Harry.”

 

“And Charlie and Ron Weasley. Who I’m sure were all to happy to drag my name through the mud--”

 

“MUD? And just what is that supposed to mean,” she turned on him angrily, “Embarrassed of me? Of my dirty blood?”

 

“What?!” Draco spat, “Are you fucking kidding me--”

 

“Don’t use that language with me, Draco Malfoy!”

 

“You’re being obnoxious! You know damn well that’s not what I meant. I simply meant that they were probably eager to spread some salacious gossip about me.”

 

“Salacious? Hardly. Besides, they’d never do anything to hurt me. They wouldn’t betray my confidence like that.”

 

“Of course, you side with them. It’s always going to be like that, huh? Me against the Gryffindors? For the rest of my life?” he growled and stormed into her living room. 

 

She didn’t miss that bit. 

 

That bit about the rest of his life. 

 

“What is your problem?” she said, a touch of softness returning to her voice.  

 

“The problem? Is that the woman I’m in love with, the one I ended my marriage for and spat on centuries of tradition for, can’t decide how she feels about me. The problem is that my mom is dying a slow, agonizing death and insists on meeting you before her end and I don’t know how to tell her that you might not pick me at the end of this,” he was pacing quickly, the words rushing out his mouth.

 

“What?” she said breathlessly, “You.. you told your parents about me? She wants to  _ meet _ me?!”

 

“Yes, well, I got the tip that the news would be leaked and I wanted to tell her before she read it in the papers. I tried to tell you yesterday but you were quite distracted by the two knobs behind us and the giant fucking pain in my ass, Charlie bloody Weasley.”

 

She blushed, knowing she had missed something during coffee and not bothering to rectify it in the moment. 

 

“And your father?”

 

“He knows as well,” Draco confessed, staring at his feet. 

 

“And?!” 

 

“And? They’ve asked to meet you! I understand it’s complete rubbish but I have a hard time telling my mother no these days. Hence, my marriage that caused this entire mess.”

 

“Do you want me to meet them?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted after a few moments, “But I’m not sure how to handle the situation with Weasley… I don’t want to ask you to lie. But I’m not sure it would be wise to share the news with my parents. It’s a lot they are even open to meeting with you and I know that’s awful to say but it’s not easy for them. Obviously, when I planned to end things with Astoria… it was right after we had been together, I didn’t think you might still want to end up with Weasley.”

 

Draco’s jaw was tight and there was a pain in his eyes she had seen on a few occasions. She seemed to so often be causing it. 

 

She moved over to him without much thought and wrapped her arms around his middle, in this space that so clearly felt like it was created for her. She smelled in the rich cologne on his robes and cherished the way his arms tightened around her. 

 

“When do they want to meet me?” her voice muffled on the expensive fabric of his chest. 

 

“You’ll go?”

 

“Yes… but I’m a bit afraid,” she chuckled darkly. 

 

“You’ll be brilliant,” he went to kiss the top of her forehead but she moved quickly and caught his lips instead. 

 

The kiss which she intended to be sweet and quick took a turn for heated. His mouth seemed to not want to take a single moment for granted… he moved firm against her and his lips parted hers and their tongues met. 

 

Her hands wound up from his waist, up his chest and settled behind his neck, drawing him closer in. She heard a primal moan from the back of his throat and it spurred her, her back arching into him and his hands moved down and grabbed fistfuls of cotton covered backside. 

 

She gasped and he spun them quickly so her back was pressed against her living room wall, his knees parting hers and his thigh resting at her apex, pressing there to the point it was driving her absolutely mad. 

 

She wanted him desperately and the longer the kiss continued, the more she felt her resolve fading… No sex? Who would ever come up with such a ridiculous rule… Surely, it hadn’t been her. 

 

As she let out a small mewl he stepped back panting, her own chest heaving as well. 

 

“Tsk tsk, Granger… you almost caught me with my guard down,” he adjusted his robes, hiding his erection. 

 

“Wh--What?” she breathed. 

 

“No sex. Unlike you and your friends, I’m a strict rule follower, remember?” he gloated, seeming sufficiently happy to have riled her up so. 

 

“Ugh!” she groaned in pent up sexual frustration and stormed away from him towards her sink. She turned the tap on and poured a small dollop of soap in, suds forming instantly. She started anger washing the few dishes that were in there, turning the water off when it was half way up her forearms. 

 

She heard him move stealthily and the hairs on the back of her neck and arms prickled as he settled right behind her. His long fingers swept the curls from her shoulder, exposing her neck and she felt a chill spread over her body. She continued to wash and whimpered as his lips brushed against the tendon where her neck and shoulder met. 

 

She paused her washing as his lips trailed up towards her ear and his tongue darted out to guide her ear lobe between her teeth, her head falling back on his chest as he chuckled darkly. 

 

“You know how I always make sure to follow the rules, Granger?” he purred and she felt her knees go slightly weak as his left hand ghosted up to palm her breast through her tank top, while his right drifted down her belly and towards the hem of her pants. 

 

“How’s that?” she panted breathlessly. 

 

“I’m smart enough to work around them…” 

 

His hand entered the waistband of her knickers and found her core quickly. She would be embarrassed about how ready she was, but she couldn’t even formulate a thought other than how much she enjoyed how he played with her. How he took his time to explore her and worship her, his hands burning flesh memories where ever they roamed. 

 

She could feel the tension starting to wind and knot in her belly and she leaned forward her hands still in the water to brace herself. 

 

Before she could think about what was happening his hands were gone and she was being spun, so that her backside rested against the sink. Her drawstring sweats were being tugged down and slipped off on ankle. 

 

She thought for a moment that she should probably protest… they shouldn’t be going this far. 

 

But by the time the words were forming, she realized her leg was being hitched over his shoulder and he was on his knees in front of her. 

 

_ Fucking hells _ . 

 

Her head fell back and her soapy hands tangled into his hair. She felt him smile against her before continuing his delicious assault on her sensitive bud, his fingers entering and touching places in her she didn’t think possible. 

 

It took moments. 

 

Moments before she had crested and arched her back into his mouth, tugging on his hair. 

 

After the spasms of her ecstasy had ended, she untangled herself from his head and blushed. 

 

She hadn’t really meant to go that far… 

 

He stayed on his knees and helped her slide her sweatpants backup, letting his fingers trail up her thighs. 

 

“You are trouble,” she bit her lip and knew she was probably scarlet red, “I can… um…” she fumbled for him but his hands found her wrists as he kissed her on the forehead. 

 

“Another time, perhaps. I should go!” he said brightly. 

 

“GO?! You don’t want me to--”

 

“I’m just happy to be of service,” he winked, and he ran his hands through his hair, clearing it of any soap bubble in his blond tresses, “Besides, I’ve got to inform my parents that you are coming tonight. My mother will be in a complete fuss to get the house ready for you.”

 

“Tonight?!” she blanched. 

 

“You’re free, yes? Charlie doesn’t get back to back nights,” he whined. 

 

“Oh, um yes… I’m just…”

 

“You’ll do great,” he smiled and kissed her quickly on the lips, she could taste her saltiness but it didn’t bother her as much as she might have thought, “Dress for dinner! I’ll be back at 5 to get you,” he made his way towards the door and her head was still fuzzy from post orgasm and the news that she would be eating dinner at Malfoy Manor tonight. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real comments today. Just a HI! And I love hearing from you!!


	19. Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a quick moment of character justification, because everyone seems to hate Hermione right now. I get it. Even as the person who is writing this piece and this take on her, she does seem to be a little...unfair. BUT, when I started this story I knew it would be a love triangle. I didn't plan on loving Charlie so much, but it happened and while it does seem like she is stringing him along. IT's really only the span of about a week. I think Hermione is really warring with these two sides of herself. The self she wants to be, the one who chooses Charlie, her head. And the self that she is, her heart, the one who chooses Draco. I always think this is her biggest dilemma. Is she being fair to Charlie, no. And I promise there will be resolution and absolution before the story is done. I also will not make him suffer for long! As I follow these versions of the characters, it's insanely difficult because I want to slap her at times... but just be patient in knowing that answers are coming! 
> 
> We've got about 3 chapters left and then some gooey epilogue goodness. So, if you're able to, stick with me!

 

She spent the afternoon panicking… laying out different clothing options and then chucking them back in her closet. 

 

_ ‘Dress for Dinner’ _ , he had said. 

 

She could wear denims to dinner at the right spot or her work clothes. How fancy was a pureblood dinner?

 

She called on the only person she could think of and sent an owl off with a cryptic note, saying only “Help! Floo is open! - HG” 

 

About 30 minutes later, as Hermione was ready to yank her curls from her head, she heard her Floo roar to life. 

 

“GRANGERRRR!” a gloating voice hollered, “HELP HAS ARRIVED!”

 

She raced into her living room and Blaise was there, standing with air of superiority. 

 

“Don’t tell me that neither one of those wizards has been able to satisfy you. I’ll tell you, the thought has crossed my mind a time or two, but alas, I can’t be the one to please you. I know, I know,” he held his hands up in mock surrender, “I am probably the only man alive who ever could fully satis--”

 

“Oh shut up, Blaise!” she snapped playfully, “You’re a git. What do Purebloods wear to dinner?”

 

“I would highly doubt you own anything appropriate,” he walked briskly past her and into her bedroom, “I’ve seen the dreadful things you wear.”

 

Hermione gasped and followed him barefoot into her room where she sat on the bed with a ‘hmmph’ and crossed her arms in defeat. 

 

“Trash, trash, trash, trash…” she could hear her hangers slamming against the others and her jaw dropped in horror. “So, Pureblood dinner… I assume Astoria asked you over for dinner and drinks?” he called out to her. 

 

“Yea, not bloody likely … Does she hate me?” she winced. 

 

“Yes. Do you blame her?”

 

“No.”

 

“So, dinner at the Malfoy’s then?” he appeared in her closet door leaning against the frame smugly, “Nervous?”

 

“I want to vomit,” she flopped back on her bed and covered her face with a dramatic arm draped over it, “Tell me what to expect, please.”

 

“Cocktails in the Parlour,  _ don’t _ order a Butterbeer,” he snickered playfully and she panicked. She tore up off the bed and raced to her desk to grab parchment and a muggle pen before returning to the bed and sitting with her legs crossed, “You’re not serious…”

 

“Just shut up, okay! Tell me what I should ask for!” she snapped, agitated but friendly. 

 

“Why? You have caused my lover duress. Perhaps I shouldn’t be friends with you any longer,” he teased.

 

“Oh, shove it, Blaise. Aren’t we in that club together?”

 

“The Dirty Mistresses Club?” his lips turned up devilishly at the sides and it reminded her of a Muggle movie at Christmas time, The Grinch, “That’s true… Ok! I’ll help you, but you owe me. And Slytherin’s don’t forget debts.”

 

“Right, right, go on then,” she waved him off. 

 

“Order Champagne or Elf Made Wine, Red or White doesn’t matter. They’ll probably offer you a second drink during cocktails, I wouldn’t accept. Sit near Narcissa, but not until she’s offered you a seat. Cross your legs at your angles not your knees and don’t touch Draco or Lucius.”

 

“What if Lucius tries to shake my hand?”

 

“He won’t.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because I’ve grown up with the self righteous arse and he won’t try to shake a Muggleborn Witches hand in his own house,” he rattled off quickly, “He will expect you to bow your head, perhaps even curtsy. Again, I wouldn’t,” his eyes tightened in a challenge and she nodded firmly, “A house elf will appear and tell you that dinner is ready, stand demurely and Draco will probably offer his arm, you can take it then. Then dinner, start on the outside with your silverware--”

 

Her pen scratched violently against the rough parchment as she took notes about how to make it through a pureblood dinner party and when the lecture ended she felt much similar to how she’s sure Draco must have felt after a class of Muggle Studies. 

 

Her brain was buzzing with information she needed to cram in the span of a few hours. 

 

“I still don’t have anything to wear…” she groaned. 

 

“I’ll have something sent over.” 

 

Her skin prickled.

 

“Nothing of Astoria’s…” she blanched. 

 

“Merlin! Are you fucking joking?!” he laughed, “Do you think I want to be skinned alive? No, I’ll have my shopper head over to Madame Josephine’s and have them send you over something ready made. You’ll be fine, Granger.”

 

“Um, one more… one more question,” she gulped, “How far along is Narcissa in her… how is she? So I’m prepared and not shocked… you know?”

 

Blaise’s cocky facade shifted and he licked his lips, “She’s alright,” he said honestly, his voice low, “You might notice a few things, shaking hands… those types of things. I haven’t seen her in a few months but… it’s not that bad... yet.”

 

Hermine just nodded in response, her eyes staring at the parchment about different courses and how to signal that she was done, where to place her napkin...she saw none of it. 

 

“I’ll bring the dress myself, alright? You just get ready and I’ll be back at 4:30.”

 

His voice had changed, since referring to Narcissa Malfoy and she thought he sounded a little sad. 

 

“Thanks, Blaise,” she said finally, “For everything.”

 

“You got it, Granger.” 

 

And with that he was gone.

 

The space felt too quiet and too barren with Blaise gone. There was so much that she needed to wrap her head around and she wasn’t sure how to do it. 

 

She took a sharp breath and returned to what felt the most right, turning the parchment over in her hands. 

 

She studied.

* * *

 

“Come on, Granger!”

 

“I don’t know… are you sure? It seems a little bold?”

 

“It was chosen for you! Get that tiny ass out here!” Blaise hollered, his mouth full of snacks from Granger’s pantry. 

 

She took a tentative step out of her bedroom door and his mouth dropped, crumbs falling out. 

 

“I’m a genius,” he said seriously. 

 

“You’re a git,” she laughed and smoothed her dress. 

 

It was a lovely ivory cocktail dress with a wide bow neck and cap sleeves. The waist flared into a peplum and the skirt was tight down her legs in a pencil shape past her knees. A gold zipper lined the back of the dress and it felt cold against her skin at first. 

 

Her hair was draped in loose curls over one shoulder and she had done her makeup simply. 

 

The Floo came to life and out walked Draco, his eyes darkening when they landed on Zabini first. 

 

“What are you doing here?” it wasn’t necessarily angry or accusing… it was suspicious.

 

“Granger was having a panic attack--”

 

“I WAS NOT!” she scolded and Draco turned to her for the first time, his eyes glossing over and a twitch of a smile near the corner of his lips. 

 

“Leave, Zabini,” Malfoy ordered, squaring his shoulders to her. She felt a nest of butterflies spring to life her belly. 

 

“Oi, you need to work on your manners!” Blaise chastised, shoving another handful of buttered popcorn in his mouth but moved towards the Floo, “No matter, I’ve got a beautiful little witch waiting on me, anyhow,” he waggled his eyebrows at the pair of them and left. 

 

“You’ve warmed up to him…” Draco purred. 

 

“He’s still obnoxious as all get out… but I have to admit, he’s grown on me. Like a wart… or a parasite,” she giggled, “I wasn’t quite sure what to expect tonight… and I had nothing to wear…” she gestured towards the beautiful ensemble he’d selected for her. 

 

Draco moved towards her with appreciative eyes and wrapped his hands around her slender waist. 

 

“Well, for the first time in my life… Thank the universe for Blaise Zabini. Ready?”

 

“What if I say ‘No’,” she gulped nervously. 

 

“I’ll be there every step of the way,” he gently kissed the tip of her nose and she smiled and nodded in his arms.

* * *

 

They arrived via Floo in the Parlour of Malfoy Manor and Hermione’s heart wrenched. 

 

“Malfoy,” she hissed as they stepped out and she tugged on his hand, “Are we going… will we be in the room where…” her eyes were darting around nervously and her heart was so loud in her ribcage she was sure he could hear it. 

 

His eyes melted into a liquid steel and he looked...ashamed. 

 

“No,” he said with a gulp.

 

She nodded and he squeezed her palm before walking through the large shiny oak door to their left. 

 

The room was large and not overly cluttered with furniture, a few chaise lounges and high back, velvet chairs. There was a huge built in bookcase with a large marble fireplace roaring in the middle, and her heart stopped as her gaze rested on the back of Lucius Malfoy, his face turning from the fire just enough that she could make out his pointed nose, Draco’s nose. 

 

“Father,” Draco said stiffly. 

 

“Draco,” the way his voice curled around his name made the hair on her arms stand up.

 

Draco sighed heavily and gave her a weak smile, “You remember Hermione Granger.”

 

“Ahhhh, well, how could I forget,” he turned and what some might mistake for a smile, Hermione knew for his teeth being barred, “How do you do, Miss Granger?”

 

He approached the pair of them and Hermione noticed how Draco’s chest filled with air. Was he nervous?

 

Lucius Malfoy kind of just stood there and waited. It was probably the time that most people would extend their hand in greeting… but Blaise had warned her about this. 

 

“Well, thank you,” she said confidently, her chin rising slightly. 

 

She stared at Lucius for some time and finally his lips irked up in a wry smile and his eyes flashed with some amusement. 

 

“Your mother will be down shortly, if you wanted to take her on a quick tour,” he finally broke their stare down and his flitted to Draco before turning back towards the fire. 

 

“Alright.”

 

And that was that. She thought she had done rather well, all things considered. But it wasn’t done yet… Draco walked her down the hall, his fingers intertwined with hers and his thumb rubbing a pattern along the back of her palm. 

 

He pointed out the Drawing Room, his Mother’s Tea Room, he didn’t mention anything about the large double doors leading into what Hermione assumed, was the grand ballroom. Down another corridor was another set of large doors but this set, Draco approached and opened. 

 

Her breath caught at the size of the library at her feet. Spiraling staircases, giant sofas and chairs littered about. 

 

She could live here. In this room. Starting right now. 

 

“Oh Draco, this is incredible…” she took a few steps forward and her heels clicked against the stone floor. 

 

Draco enveloped her in his arms, breathing in her scent and burying his face in her neck. 

 

“Thank you for being here,” he whispered. 

 

“You’re welcome,” his hand moved from her hip and grabbed she felt his wrist flick, must have been his wand because a giant record player in the corner started playing a soft, sweet melody. 

 

His hand returned to her hip as he began to sway them back and forth. She turned her face into him and rested her forehead on his cheek. 

 

His fingers ghosted along her chin and lifted her face so that he could capture her lips in a tender kiss. The same lips that had filled her with desire and her legs shaking this morning… filled her heart with a deep longing that twisted in her gut. She almost felt like crying, the kiss was so wonderful. 

 

It ended, too quickly and he spun her around to give her that unreadable expression again. A thousand endearments swimming behind stoic eyes that revealed nothing. 

 

“C’mon,” he nodded towards some doors near the back, leading to a giant veranda. There was a beautiful view of the grounds, a giant garden that smelled so strongly of fresh flowers she thought if she walked through them, she’d smell of gardenia and roses for a week and an outdoor path that lead them back towards where their tour had started. They had probably seen about 50% of the Manor, but it was the highlights. 

 

She rested her head on his shoulder as they walked, their hands still tangled. 

 

“What was it like… growing up in a place like this?” 

 

He shrugged, “I don’t have much to compare it to.”

 

“Were you spoiled?”

 

He scoffed, “Yes.”

 

“Did you fly brooms?” 

 

“Yes. Sometimes, I’d do running leaps off the balcony of my bedroom… my mother would slap me with a switch if she saw… it was worth it though,” he smiled, lost in a memory. 

 

“Do people live close to you?”

 

“The grounds are rather extensive but yes, the Crabbe’s were just over that hill… they’ve since moved. The Green--” he paused and swallowed thickly, “The Greengrasses are just there.”

 

She could see the faint lights of another monsterous mansion on a far hill. 

 

The path seemed to curve back towards the house and he opened a side door which lead to the same room they had Floo’d into and briskly towards the Oak door that lead to where she had met Lucius. 

 

Her nerves had settled, having successfully met Lucius and walked off her jitters and she walked in, her head still resting on Draco’s shoulder, their hands still joined. 

 

She was smiling until her eyes landed on Narcissa, sitting on a chaise lounge with her eyebrow perched so high on her head and her nostrils flared so rigidly, Hermione was all of a sudden sure she smelled nothing of gardenia and roses and most certainly of sewage. 

 

Hermione released Narcissa’s son quickly and stepped to the side. Lucius was standing behind the chaise, his hand gripping the wooden border and a wicked smirk on his face. 

 

“Mother,” Draco said, much softer than he had greeted his father, “This is Hermione Granger, I don’t believe you’ve met,” Draco kissed his mother on the cheek that she offered, her hands very still in her lap, an appraising eye on Hermione. 

 

Shit. She couldn’t remember the rules. She wasn’t supposed to touch Draco or Lucius, but what about Lady Malfoy? Should she curtsey? Bow? Kneel? Grovel? 

 

Merlin, this woman could stare daggers that put Lucius Malfoy to shame. 

 

“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione dipped her head slightly. Stupid. 

 

“Miss Granger, yes, I don’t believe we’ve formally met,” her voice sounded too old for her face, if that was a thing. 

 

“Other than the once, I don’t believe so,” Hermione said casually and then blanched, Draco’s face twisting up in a painful grimace. 

 

“Once?” Narcissa’s eyebrows lifted in the middle of her forehead. 

 

“Oh, I just um… well, what I meant was… the time. Uh, Draco?” she panicked and looked at Draco who was swearing under his breath. 

 

“Hermione, as you remember is very close friends with Harry Potter. This is not her first visit to Malfoy Manor,” Draco said through a tight jaw. 

 

Acknowledgement dawned on Narcissa's face and it, surprisingly, softened. 

 

“Oh,” she swallowed, “Dear, I’m sorry. I’m glad you agreed to return on a happier occasion. It’s hard for me to travel these days and I was so eager to meet the witch who has so stolen our Draco’s heart.” 

 

Lucius’ eyes narrowed at the edges and she got the feeling that there was a question he very much wanted to ask. 

 

She could feel heat and sweat gathering at the back of her neck and at her palms. It felt like she was standing on a bloody firing line, with these three impossibly beautiful, pure blooded magical humans staring her down. 

 

She wasn’t supposed to sit unless someone offered… but was anyone going to ever bloody offer?!

 

“A drink, Hermione?” Draco asked kindly and her eyes widened so far, she must have looked comical. Lucius gave a single chuckle and then hid it behind a cough. Draco  _ never _ called her that. 

 

“Yes, please.”

 

_ Panic. Panic. Panic.  _

 

Her entire nervous system felt like it was shutting down. 

 

“Poppy!” Lucius called and a small elf appeared. Hermione had prepared herself to see a servant tonight but her mind drifted back to Cartagena. He had told her then that all their House Elves were free elves with living wages and she was shocked to see the sweet little pink dress the house elf had chosen for herself. 

 

“What would Miss like?” Poppy’s giant eyes stared up at her and she felt like she was looking Dobby. 

 

Dobby. An innocent. Lost helping them escape this house. 

 

Her chest was starting to feel too tight. 

 

“Um, a Butterbeer is fine,” she said absently. She noticed another ghost of a smirk on Lucius’s face and she remembered Blaise’s advice, “I mean, NO! A… Champagne….” she corrected and then remembered herself, “PLEASE!” she shouted and the three Malfoy’s and Poppy seemed to jump slightly at her raised voice. 

 

She needed a time turner. To go back and start this meeting over again. Where had all her confidence gone when she had been meeting Lucius. 

  
Why was Narcissa so unnerving?

 

Poppy returned with a Champagne in hand and Hermione took it and curtseyed. 

 

She fucking  _ curtseyed. _

 

She was presenting herself as a ridiculous girl, raised probably by werewolves or gremlins and in no way suitable for their son. 

 

Draco walked towards her and placed his palm on her lower back and he took a deep breath, wordlessly asking her to do the same. 

 

“Come on, little lioness. You’ve faced scarier than this lot. You can do this,” he whispered quietly and his hand moved slightly lower, only she would know and he gave her a tiny motivating pat on her bottom and she jumped. 

 

“Hermione, come. Join me,” Narcissa’s hand gestured to the space next to her and her initial iciness had worn off slightly. Hermione’s heart pained as she noticed the tremor in her hand before she calmly returned it to her lap. 

 

Hermione sat and noticed her own hands were shaking slightly from nerves. 

 

“Our Draco tells us you’ve had quite the success at work lately,” Narcissa said as she reached for a drink offered to her by her son. It was only half full and when she took it, the liquid shook violently in the glass, exasperating how much she was moving as well. 

 

Hermione averted her eyes, to allow her some privacy as she took the drink and then settled it again on the small table next to her. 

 

“Yes,” she swallowed the bubbly drink in her hands, “Draco and I both,” she smiled at him, “The Dragon Sanctuary will be opening up hopefully next year. It was quite the project and I look forward to seeing it through to fruition, now that it’s staying here in the UK.”

 

She saw Draco smirk into his glass as he took a drink. 

 

“As you know, we have had a long history with the Dragon plight. So proud of Draco taking such initiative when he heard of your project.” 

 

There it was again. 

 

This nagging feeling like there was an ulterior motive to this meeting. How much did the Malfoy’s know about Hermione and Draco’s beginning? Why didn’t she think to ask?

 

“So you and Draco were at school together? That’s how you met?” 

 

“Yes, mother,” Draco said with a flat expression, “Hermione was in my year, Golden Trio, War Hero, Order of Merlin, top of the class and punched me in the nose in third year. You know quite well who she is.” 

 

Draco must have sensed it too because she could feel the tension spreading through the room. 

 

“Don’t speak to your mother like that, Draco Malfoy,” his father chastised him and Draco’s chin set. 

 

“I’m just being friendly,” Narcissa said innocently and Draco gave her a dull, knowing look, to which she responded by averting her eyes, “Another drink Hermione?” 

 

Hermione had slugged her champagne in the most unlady like of fashions and now her eyes were darting back and forth. Something Blaise had said about drinks… Just not to order the Butterbeer, right?

 

“Dinner is ready, m’aam,” Topsy popped in quickly and left before anyone could make a move. 

 

Narcissa braced her hands on the armrest and tried with all her might to hoist her small body up but Hermione could sense the trouble she was having and quickly moved to help her. 

  
As her hands shot out to help, she realized this might be breaking more rules. 

 

Rules be damned. 

 

She allowed her arm to Narcissa who stared at it with great thought, even as Draco and Lucius loomed also in arms reach. She took in gingerly and Hermione easily helped to lift Lady Malfoy to her feet. 

 

They shared a look that Hermione couldn’t name, perhaps one where a tiny bit of respect had been transferred and then she latched onto her son’s arm. 

 

“I suppose that leaves the two of us,” a slow, bored drawl from behind her. 

 

Lucius was there, his walking stick in his left and his right elbow offered to her. 

 

Bollocks. 

 

Blaise had said not to touch Draco or Lucius. He did mention that she  _ could _ touch Draco, when he escorted her to dinner. That seemed to be this moment, except the person escorting her was the only other man, whom she had been strictly forbidden from touching.

 

Why was Lucius Malfoy even alright with her dirty blood in so close proximity with his?

 

She took his arm, finding that courage that these days only seemed to spring up when she desperately needed it and they began their slow walk behind Draco and his mother. 

 

For all the tension and awkwardness of this evening, it didn’t seem that the pair of older Malfoy’s were all that racist. They just seemed a little… protective, perhaps. 

 

“You know, although my wife was being perfectly polite earlier, we have heard your name around these walls a time or two,” Lucius clipped formally. 

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Oh yes, Draco would just go on and on about you as a child.  _ ‘Father, Granger got better scores than me in Potions again,’ ‘Father, Granger stole the book I was meaning to send out’, ‘Father, Granger didn’t notice me at the Yule Ball and she danced with… _ ’” Lucius called out to his son then, “Who did you complain about that year, Draco? You didn’t start complaining about Potter and Weasley dating her until their later years, isn’t that right? It was a different boy?”

 

“Father--” Draco’s teeth were so clenched as they entered the small dining hall that Hermione was actually grinning. 

 

“You’re embarrassing him, Luc…” Narcissa clucked and lowered herself slowly and shakily into her chair to the right of the head of the table. 

 

“Nonsense,” Lucius’ eyes gleamed, “I’m sure she’s well aware of the effect she’s had all these years on our little Dragon. Why, I doubt he would have ever defected and saved our entire family, had it not been for her.” 

 

“For me?” her eyes clouded and she looked at Draco, who looked positively mortified. 

 

“Draco’s pined for you for many long years now, isn’t that right, Draco?” Lucius pulled the chair out for Hermione who took it with a shallow breath. Here it was… the climax of the evening, she could feel it and her stomach churched from hunger and anguish. 

 

“I didn’t realize,” she smiled at Draco, but her smile was nervous.

 

“A schoolboy crush,” he allowed with a firm set to his lips. 

 

“Well, can’t be as simple as that. The timing seems quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you say, Cissy?”

 

“Lucius,” she hissed, “This is not why we invited this girl here tonight.”

 

“I just think it’s best we are all clear about the order of events so that we can move forward in truth.”

 

“Order of events?” Hermione blanched and felt Draco standing behind her chair, his hand moved to her shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. 

 

“I will tell you how it looks to me,  _ Miss _ Granger,” the way he said Miss sounded like a snake’s hiss, “You, being the brilliant girl you are, knowing that our dear Draco would never get his inheritance unless he first married a girl that upheld his end of the prenuptial agreement, waited until after he was married to…” Lucius seemed to be searching for the least offensive word and failed, “capitalize on his feelings for you.” 

 

“LUCIUS!” Narcissa was bright red and her hands were shaking on the table in front of her. 

 

“It’s fine,” he waved his hand, “I just think it’s best we not sit through this dinner pretending this to be anything other than what it is. I’m surprised you weren’t sorted into Slytherin, dear girl. Had you not been a Muggleborn, I do say you would have.” 

 

Hermione’s eyes were locked onto Lucius who seemed completely at ease, a fire licking the air behind him. 

 

“Let’s go, Hermione,” Draco moved to slide her chair out and Narcissa started panicking. 

 

“You take that back, Lucius Malfoy! Take that back right now!” Narcissa cried out. 

 

“Cissy, don’t upset yourself.”

 

“Hermione,” he growled, “I won’t have you in this  _ man’s _ presence another instant. Please,” he slid her chair out and she stood, ungracefully. 

 

She was about to storm out and words started pouring out her chest.

 

“Mister Malfoy, you couldn’t be more wrong about me. I never knew Draco felt any way about me in our time together at Hogwarts. If what you’re saying is true, I assure you, he hid it so perfectly that I thought until this past June he hated me due to my blood status more than anyone else on the planet. I fell in love with your son and it broke my heart irreparably when he chose Astoria over me,” she ghosted a chuckle, “Somehow finding out that he married her because of his immense love of his family, and not his love of her, made me fall even harder for him. But I gave up. I conceded and moved on with my life. I don’t know what the future holds for the two of us… but I know that I want nothing to do with your money. I don’t want this house or his social status. I’ve only ever wanted him.”

 

Narcissa stood abruptly and her face was flush with anger. Her pupils were so dilated that Hermione felt a shudder of terror, before she turned to speak to her husband, who sat there, ever so casually still. 

 

“You will make this right,” and Lucius gave her a warning look, “Do you hear me? I’m  _ dying.  _ Actually, dying. I have maybe a few years left and they won’t be pretty. If she,” and a shaking hand pointed towards Hermione and Draco, “Is what makes my son happy, you won’t deny me this. You won’t deny  _ him _ this. Not after all you’ve cost us. I won’t miss my chance to see him marry someone he truly loves…” she was crying now, “I won’t miss the chance to see my grandchildren. Not because of your idiotic tendencies to believe the worst in everyone. Apologize to her this instant!” she stomped her foot and Hermione say her stature waiver briefly. 

 

Lucius stared at his wife with a grim glare. 

 

“Apologize, NOW!” another stomp. 

 

“I…” he bared his teeth at Hermione again, “I am… sorry, Miss Granger. For making assumptions about your character and your motives. It was… ill mannered--”

 

“--And pig headed,” Narcissa offered. 

 

His teeth grit down hard, “And pig headed…” the words barely slipped out, “Of me.”

 

“I think you should beg her forgiveness,” Draco offered. 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” 

 

“Luuuucius…” Narcissa warned, a rattlesnake shaking her tail.

 

“I beg your forgiveness, Miss Granger,” it must have tasted bitter on his tongue because his face was in absolute hell. 

 

“Hermione,” Narcissa said fretfully, “Please, forgive my stupid husband and join us for dinner. He will not speak  **another word** at this dinner table tonight. Lest, he incur my wrath.” 

 

She stared pointedly at her husband and Lucius’ grip on his walking stick tightened to the point that his pale knuckles turned white. 

 

He nodded to Hermione who took her seat properly and smiled at the first course before her. 

 

“Way to go show off,” Draco teased her, “Here i was planning on the big speech and before I could you beat me to it.”

 

“Yes, well… while Slytherin’s plan, Gryffindors accomplish, I suppose,” and winked at him. 

 

He reached his hand out and gave her a squeeze on the top of the table and he flashed her a smile. 

 

She didn’t miss the doey eyes of Narcissa at the way their hands paired together. And she didn’t miss the pout of a scolded Lucius Malfoy as he picked at his dinner in complete, utter, beautiful silence. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me have it, folks.


	20. Quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYSSSS I have been SO excited to share this chapter. LIKE I CAN'T EVEN WAIT. 
> 
> **Cracks knuckles**
> 
> LET'S DO THIS!

Saturday morning she had found herself at the Burrow. 

 

She had stopped by earlier in the week to check on Ginny, but it had been a few days and she wanted to see her friend again. Especially after the eventful dinner she had enjoyed the night before. 

 

After saying a distracted hello to the Molly and Arthur at the breakfast table, she climbed the creaky steps to her friends room and was surprised, as she pushed the door open. 

 

“Ginny?” Hermione called, noticing that almost the entire room was packed into cardboard boxes. 

 

“‘Mione?” she heard a call from the far corner of the closet and walked into the back, “Is that you?”

 

“Yes,I was just popping by to say hello,” she called back and started poking at the boxes, “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

 

Ginny emerged, her skin tone back to its normal rosy hue and her eyes brighter than she’d ever seen them. 

 

“I’m moving!” she beamed. 

 

“Moving?! Where? Grimmauld?”

 

“No! Holyhead,” she grinned, on the verge of manically. 

 

“Ginny…” Hermione was treading carefully now, she could sense danger, “How… What…”

 

“Where, When… Yadda yadda, I’ve heard it from the whole family  _ and _ Harry,” she rolled her eyes. 

  
“Are you… Are you leaving Harry?” she gulped. 

 

“Merlin, NO! Holyheads not that far, I can Apparate only using 2 or 3 jumps! It’ll take an hour at most, with rests.”

 

“Why, Gin?”

 

Ginny ghosted a laugh and pulled her hair off her shoulders, “If I’m being honest? I didn’t realize how much this… this pregnancy was going to affect me. I mean, I know how much having a kid would. But, here I was, staring down the wand at the rest of my life and all I could think of… is all the things I very much wanted to do before they were here. 

 

Don’t get me wrong… I will love being a mother, especially to Harry’s babies. But, there’s  _ more _ for me first. And, bugger, I felt so guilty thinking that,” she laughed again, her shoulders shaking hollowly, “But now, I just look at this experience for what it is. A wake up call. I’m sitting here, in my parents house, Harry Potter’s girlfriend, second string Quidditch player… I’m waiting for my life to start. But, H… it  _ has _ started and I’m going to miss it by waiting for a ring or a baby or someone to call me up to starting.”

 

“Oh Gin…”

 

“No! Don’t. It’s good, H… It’s  _ so  _ good. I have a chance to take my life by the bludger, so to speak,” she winked, “I’m moving to Holyhead with some of my teammates, I’m throwing myself into Quidditch while I’m still young enough to play it. While I’m not married and pregnant and raising babies.  _ This is our time.”  _

 

She said it with such reverence… such wisdom, that it brought a tear to her eye. 

 

“And that brings me to my next point… you and Charlie,” she sucked in a deep breath and slapped her knees. 

 

“Ginny, we  _ don't _ have to talk about this,” she flushed a brilliant scarlet. 

 

“But we should,” she sighed, “It’s ok, Hermione.”

 

“What is?”

 

“It’s ok if you don’t love him. It’s ok if you don’t pick him.”

 

“Pick him?”

 

“Harry told me.”

 

“Of course he did,” she snarled. 

 

“You should have told me,” Hermione opened her mouth to protest and Ginny lifted her hand, “But I’ve been preoccupied. Hermione… I’ve been drowning. But I’m treading water now. Better, actually.. I’m slicing through these waves and my mind is clear. I don’t want you to ever feel like you following your heart is going to cause a rift between the two of us. Ok? It never would; never could. I don’t need you to give me an explanation or anything, I just need you to know where I stand. I’ll always think Malfoy’s a twit, but if he’s your twit… then ok.”

 

Hermione felt a knot of tears settle into her lower throat and she tried frantically to swallow it. There on the fringe of her consciousness was this nagging feeling again. 

“Ok,” she answered simply, tears welling in her eyes. 

 

“And what’s better? My mum knows nothing! She thinks you and Charlie are splendid friends… that’s all.”

 

A gush of air left Hermione’s lungs, “Really?!”

 

“Yes, Charlie made it clear to Mum. When I asked him about it, he said he’d rather surprise her with good news than disappoint her with bad news.”

 

_ Ouch. _

 

That one hurt. 

 

“So, Holyhead?” Hermione changed the subject with a smile. 

 

“Holyhead,” Ginny grinned.

* * *

 

  
  


Hermione and Ginny came down the stairs laughing and all the breath left Hermione as she saw Charlie standing eating a bowl of cereal, shirtless, over the kitchen sink. 

 

Merlins sack, what kind of man was built like this?

 

Even Viktor had not been sculpted like this. Charlie had thick bands of muscle upon more thick bands of muscle with a thin waist and deep cuts into his hips where his sweatpants hung low. 

 

His arms were, simply put, massive. Almost like he wrestled Dragons for a living or something…

 

“HERMIONE!” Ginny elbowed her friend sharply and she shook her head from her daze. 

 

Her eyes lifted first to Charlie’s devilish smirk and then to Ginny. 

 

“What?” she asked innocently, her brows perched. 

 

“Yea,” Ginny scoffed, “ _ What?” _

 

“I should go,” Hermione laughed to herself. 

 

“Don’t go,” Ginny rushed, “The boys are just about to play a bit of pickup and I could use the company.”

 

“You’re not playing?” Hermione asked with a furrowed brow. 

 

“Not til next week,” Ginny shifted uncomfortably but didn’t offer much else. Hermione’s eyes flashed up to Charlie who was looking at his baby sister with concern. 

 

Maybe she couldn’t count Charlie out.. Not quite yet. 

 

“Come on, Hermione,” Charlie smiled, wiping the milk from his lips and depositing his dish in the sink… his muscles rippling like he was on the front page of a magazine. 

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“Let me take you for a ride.”

 

“Oh, hoh hoh! No no… I don’t, I um… I don’t ride,” she blanched and then blushed, “BROOMS!” she corrected and then groaned, “I don’t  _ fly _ brooms, is what I meant to say.” 

 

Charlie smiled wickedly at her and even Ginny blushed on her behalf. 

 

“I know… I remember how terrified you were of Annie,” he laughed, “I’ll fly, you ride,” he winked and Hermione felt a flutter in her belly. 

 

Who was this? This forward, shirtless, flirtatious man. 

 

“I should sit with Gin,” she reasoned, turning to her friend. 

 

“Oh no, please… Charlie could definitely use the warm up.” 

 

“Piss off, sis,” Charlie challenged with a tick of his chin. 

 

“Just speaking the truth, asshat.”

 

“Ginny, what are you doing? You know I don’t fly…” she hissed into her friend. 

 

“Just because I understand if you don’t choose him, doesn't mean I’m not still rooting for the asshat,” she whispered and shoved her friend towards her shirtless older brother.

 

Charlie conjured a Gryffindor Quidditch shirt that was basically see through, it had been washed so many times. It displayed SEEKER across the back and as he lifted it over his head, his sweats dipped ever so slightly lower and she could see the start of his--

 

“You ok, Hermione?” Charlie interrupted and stalked towards her. 

 

“Hmm?! Me? Brilliant, actually. Splendid,” she tripped over her words and grimaced at her own ridiculousness.

 

“So, what say you? Can I tempt you for a broom ride?” Charlie invaded her space, Ginny just a step behind her on the bottom stair. 

 

Hermione started coughing and hacking on her own saliva so violently that even Ginny muttered a  _ ‘Jesus’ _ , which was not only out of place but also out of her culture, as she whacked Hermione on the back. 

 

“I shouldn’t…” Hermione said between coughs. 

 

“I insist,” Charlie kissed the tip of her nose and grabbed her hand, leading her out to the back porch. 

 

She flushed as he drew his wand and summoned his broom, which came flying into his hand. 

 

“Charlie, I really hate heights…” she panicked. 

 

He threw his leg over the stick and smiled at her. 

 

“I know… but you  _ can _ trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you, Hermione.”

 

She looked over her shoulder to Ginny who was leaning against the doorframe and watching the pair of them, a knowing smile on her face. 

 

She drew on all this profound knowledge her friend had stumbled upon and decided to seize the moment. She threw her denim clad leg over the broomstick and leaned back into Charlie who wrapped a strong arm around her tiny waist, pulling her deeper into him. 

 

“Ready?” his breath kissed her ear and she giggled and nodded as he kicked off. 

 

He took them soaring through the air around the Burrow, over the unkept garden and the fields. 

 

The difference between the Burrow and the Manor was striking. 

 

She shrieked as he dipped and soared, and each time she threw her forehead into his cheek as he laughed into the sky. 

 

He was an unbelievable flyer, not that she had much experience… but as he slowed their ride so they were hovering over the Burrow. She felt nervous in all the wrong ways but somehow, her fear of heights was diminished the further she sank into his arms. 

 

His arm stayed around her waist and her head rested on his shoulder, a lovers embrace. 

 

“So, you were a Seeker? That must mean you were a fair flyer,” she mused. 

 

“Fair?” he faked being affronted, “If you only you had seen me during my time at Hogwarts.”

 

“Oh, I’ve heard… All about the infamous Charlie Weasley and all the girls who fell head over heels for you.” 

 

He laughed and she could feel his muscles tense against her back. She adjusted slightly so that she could see his face and he turned to look at her with unreadable eyes. 

 

“Ah, but here I was… just waiting for you,” his eyes fell to her parted lips and she had the briefest flash of guilt before his lips crashed on hers. 

 

The kiss was so much different than the one they had shared at her front door the other night. She could feel his hand tighten on the soft flesh of her waist and pull her into him and she pulled away only to gasp before their mouths collided again. 

 

Her right hand came up and cradled the back of his neck, pulling him closer, their mouths parting and their tongues exploring each other the way never had. Her fingers sifted through his hair and tugged slightly and she could hear a groan from the back of his throat. 

 

Her back arched and she forgot momentarily that she was sitting across a broom as the hand on his waist started to dip lower…

 

And then, her mind flashed with a vision of Draco and she pulled away quickly, sucking in a deep breath of air as her eyes studied him. 

 

This was wrong. All wrong. 

 

“OI! ARE YOU BLOODY KIDDING ME! GET THE FACK DOWN HERE!” 

 

They jumped and Charlie grabbed ahold of the broom handle with the hand that had been previously scorching a bath down her belly. 

 

“Fucking, Ron,” Charlie bit out and Hermione who hadn’t taken her eyes off him started chuckling, “Fuck…” his body went tense. 

 

“What?” her eyes opened and she looked below them, “Oh… fuck,” she mirrored. 

 

Below them, was Ron, Harry… and a very blond, very pissed, Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 

  
  
  


_ Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.  _

 

Charlie touched the broom down and Hermione could feel how very scarlet her skin was ablazed right now. 

 

Her face was so tight and uncomfortable she felt like it had been spun through a washing machine. 

 

“Hey, guys,” she said and grimaced. 

 

“You fucking kidding me, Chuck?” Ron spat. 

 

“Don’t be like that, baby brother,” Charlie cooed, mockingly and ruffed his brothers overgrown hair.

 

“Don’t call me that,” a rage blush spread over his cheeks, “Hermione? Really?!”

 

Charlie rolled his eyes. 

 

Harry was showing his teeth in the most awkward and uncomfortable manner. He clearly felt as god awful as Hermione did. 

 

Ginny was laughing uncontrollably. 

 

Draco… was unreadable. It’s not that he wasn’t pissed… that was easily readable. It just that there was a deep, darker emotion lingering underneath the anger. 

 

“What’s Malfoy doing here?” Charlie nodded with his chin. 

 

“Well, Gin, couldn’t play! So I popped by Malfoy’s and asked if he could join. We need the numbers,” Ron said innocently, his eyes shifting between the group. 

 

“Oh, that’s great. You’re parents didn’t mind him dropping by, Malfoy? No tea parties or anything this afternoon?” Charlie asked with a hint of amusement twinging his eyes. 

 

“That’s big talk, considering your mum is probably making your bed upstairs, Weasley,” Draco’s eyes narrowed. 

 

“Ahhhh, my holiday bed, Malfoy. Big difference there.”

 

“Is there?” Draco asked in a condescending sneer. 

 

“I should go…” Hermione retreated. 

 

She heard a few more pops of apparition and a more familiar faces appeared, Percy, George and Angelina. 

 

Hermione didn’t realize this was such an event. 

 

“Oh good!” Molly’s cheerful voice broke through, “Everyone’s here! Draco, dear, you’re playing for Ginny? Hermione! Come sit with us,” she conjured a few chairs that lined that kitchen windows, facing the large field and Hermione wanted desperately to run. 

 

“Yes, Molly, I’m here for Ginny,” he walked towards the few chairs and lifted his hands above his head, lifting his sweater easily from his shoulders, his  tshirt following it half way up his torso, revealing his thin, lean muscle. 

 

Hermione gulped. This couldn’t be real. It was a nightmare. 

 

He threw a snarling, judging glare at her and she shrank into her seat. 

 

_ Fuck. _

* * *

 

 

Hermione didn’t pretend to fully understand Quidditch, but she knew this mashup was disaster and they were missing a few players. 

 

The teams stood at Harry as Seeker, Malfoy and Angelina played Chaser, and Percy, regrettably, as keeper. 

 

The other team, was all Weasley’s. 

 

Charlie straddled his broom midair, cracking his neck. 

 

There had been no question he would be Seeker… George and Arthur were Chasing and Ron was Keeper.  

 

“Aren’t they missing a few? Another character?” Hermione asked Ginny and Ginny acted straight affronted. 

 

“It’s not a bloody   _ character, _ it’s a position! Beater. And we don’t play that position for pick up games… Mum’s rule,” she stuck her tongue out at Molly and Molly gave her a look. 

* * *

  
  
  


The following hour was a hormonal, testerone driven roller coaster. It was actually far more fun to watch this pick up game than it ever had been to watch during school. She knew all the players and the game was in her face. 

 

Her friends flew by her in quick movements, spiraling in and out of play. 

 

She felt Draco’s and Charlie’s eyes on her often and they seemed to be playing far too aggressively. Weaving in and out of each other and during a water break she saw Draco check Charlie with his shoulder.

 

It was chilly in the October air and Hermione transfigured her sweater into a giant blanket which she lay across her and Ginny’s lap. Molly was hooting for her boys in the air and it made Gin and her laugh uncontrollably. 

 

Despite the chill, during the break, Charlie lifted his thin sweat soaked shirt from his shoulders and tossed it down towards Hermione, giving her a wink when Molly wasn’t looking. 

 

She thought Draco might splinter his broom as tight as his grip was on his broom. 

 

He broke his posture and rubbed his palm over his face, twice over his chin, which she noticed had the stubble she adored, his thin shirt sticking to his lean abdominals. 

 

Merlin. Had Quidditch always been so… so hot?

 

The game started up again and Charlie and Harry circled the small makeshift pitch again and again, while the rest of the players batted the quaffle back and forth towards the goals, attempting to gain ground with goals. 

 

Harry was high up, maybe too high and he seemed almost bored as he looked down on the scene below. 

 

Draco’s long arm reached out and flexed as it grabbed ahold of the Quaffle and whipped it back toward Ron who blocked it at the very last second, eliciting a curse from Draco's’ lips. 

 

It was crazy how much she enjoyed watching him play, she had never done so before. But he was precise, quick and smart in his movements. There were times she would have probably have moved that he didn’t, knowing it wasn’t worth it. 

 

His eyes twitched over his shoulder and before she could fully understand what he was doing, he had twisted round on his broom and was darting off over the gardens, before hitting the boundaries and barreling back towards the pitch. 

 

Charlie’s eyes narrowed and then caught a glimpse of what Draco was chasing, the snitch. He tore away on his broom and weaved through the players still passing the Quaffle back and forth as the snitch approached yet another boundary and rebounded again. 

 

This put them on even footing as Draco reared his broom back towards the crowd. They were insanely close and Hermione couldn’t see the object of their race. It was barely a flutter but the two of them were battling for inches as they came up close. 

 

Hermione’s heart was batting nervously around her chest, not even knowing who she was rooting for until Draco sliced up, his hand extended and his palm closed in midair.

 

She clapped her hands together and gave a victory hoot for him. 

 

A smile spread across his face as he did a corkscrew on his broom before landing on the grass below. 

 

“Bull-fucking-shit, Malfoy!” Ron shouted. 

 

“RONALD WEASLEY!” Molly reprimanded and Ron blushed. 

 

“You’re not the Seeker, Malfoy,” Charlie bit out. 

 

“Well, I caught the snitch,” he shrugged and opened his palm, a small golden snitch hovering over his palm. 

 

“Well, you fucking shouldn’t have! Fucking prick--” a shirtless Charlie touched down and charged towards a growing epicenter of tension. 

 

“CHARLES WEASLEY!” Molly shouted, her eyes wide at her son’s uncharacteristic behavior. 

 

“It wasn’t your fucking snitch,” Charlie growled. 

 

“Well, it’s mine now, Weasley, in case that’s not _ glaringly  _ obvious,” Draco chuckled and plucked the floating snitch from the space between them. He reminded her then of his arrogant, younger self and it was part adorable, part irritating. 

 

“You’re a fucking prat, you know that?” Charlie hissed. 

 

“Fully aware, thanks for the update. I knew you were a bit older than the rest of us, but damn, out run by a chaser, tsk tsk tsk,” Draco clucked and tossed the snitch up in the air and snatched it again quickly, then turning towards where he had deposited his sweater. 

 

“You know, Malfoy, I’m getting a bit sick of your bullshit,” Charlie’s large hand grabbed Malfoy’s shoulder and whipped him back around, “You had your chance. Bully for you, you fucking blew it. Do us all a favor and piss off.” 

 

“Charlie!” Hermione reprimanded as she approached the altercation, she yanked on his elbow but he ripped it out of her grasp as he shoved Malfoy hard in the chest. 

 

“Blew  _ my _ chance? I wouldn’t be so worried about me, mate. You’ve always been playing for second,” he sneered, his eyes tight with anger and jealousy. 

 

“Is that so? The girl was on my broom this morning, in case you missed it.”

 

“CHARLIE! What has gotten into you??” Hermione hissed, still reeling from him snatching his elbow from her hands. 

 

She would never even imagine Charlie capable of saying such things, regardless of how hyped up on testerone he might be. 

 

“Go on, Weasley… be more of a man than your brother ever could be. Even Granger hit me a time or two… once was in third year… the other was last time we rolled around the--”

 

“Draco,” Hermione whined, “Please don’t do this.” 

  
Hermione hurried to Draco’s side trying to also tug him away from the impending fight. Draco’s arm wrapped around her waist and moved her swiftly behind him out of harms way. 

 

Charlie’s fist shot out while Draco was distracted and clocked square in the jaw. 

 

Hermione couldn’t wrap her head around it and the sound it made against Draco’s jaw made  _ her _ cry out in pain. 

 

Draco’s head snapped back quickly and his tongue lapped up the blood pooling at the corner of his lips, while Charlie wrung his injured knuckles out. 

 

“Big mistake, Weasley,” and Draco flew through the air and caught Charlie around the middle, tackling him to the ground and landing fists in his torso while Charlie’s huge arm came up and wrapped around Draco’s neck. 

 

“What in the world!! DRACO! CHARLES! ENOUGH!” Molly screamed into the air as Ron and Harry attempted to drag them apart. 

 

“STOP!” it was Hermione’s voice that rang out now and she felt the tears stain her cheeks, “BOTH OF YOU STOP THIS INSTANT!” 

 

They didn’t listen. 

 

Not until Molly’s wand violently separated the two men who were panting and writhing in testosterone fueled anger. 

 

“Someone had better explain and explain NOW!” Molly’s face was a bright red and her wand arm still drawn. 

 

Malfoy turned abruptly and snatched his sweater off the ground, sneering at Hermione as he turned towards the treeline. 

 

Molly had cornered Charlie, yelling and questioning him. He seemed to be trying to get past her and to Hermione but she was gone, chasing Malfoy. 

 

Always, chasing Malfoy.

 

“YOU. INCORRIGIBLE. ROTTEN. PRAT!” she poked him in the chest with her pointer finger at every word. 

 

“Oh, you want to put this all on me? Like your boyfriend didn’t throw the first punch? Like you weren’t being felt up by Weasley just an hour and a half ago!”

 

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” she stuttered, knowing in her belly that she didn’t mean that. It had felt wrong… “I didn’t say he was blameless, I’ll deal with him later. But you knew what you were doing! You completely instigated that fight!”

 

“Oh… I did?! I DID?! Deal with your fucking boyfriend Granger, I’m done here,” he turned and stormed past her, determined to leave the Burrow as soon as possible. 

 

“No, no,” she grabbed at his thin shirt, “You don’t walk out on this. Not again. You are completely shirking responsibility for the fact that you are the one that left me. You choose her and I moved on. Now you want to me to completely forget everything? Just move past it all like nothing happened?”

 

“Fucking shit, are you going to punish me for that for the rest of my bloody life? I’m sorry. I’m sorry that sometimes I make stupid, life altering decisions. I get it. I’m a fuckup. So get on with your Weasel and forget about me. Is that what you want to hear me say? You knew what a huge step last night was for me...You think I just bring anyone to meet them? And I get that it’s not that big of a deal for you, but could you have at least waited 24 hours before letting that fucking prick into your knickers?” his face was twisted in anger as he spoke. 

 

Hermione’s hand acted of its own volition and slapped Draco squarely across the face. 

 

She wished she could take it back. 

 

She saw the look of hurt on his face before it morphed into anger, an emotion he was far more comfortable in the realm of. 

 

“Maybe this was a mistake,” she gulped thickly, tears springing to her eyes. 

 

_ Stop, stop talking. You don’t mean that... _

 

“Yea, maybe it was,” he returned thickly. 

 

_ No... _

 

They sat there in uncomfortable silence for too long. Both wanting the other to apologize or make a move or give a hint. 

 

Anything. 

 

Anything that would make the next part easier. 

  
  


Her mind was screaming so loud that she couldn’t even hear her heart. She knew it was shouting something at her. If she could only make the rest of the noise die down. 

 

This was what their life would be. They would be yelling and screaming for the rest of their lives. Constantly questioning, challenging, pushing and pulling. His parents would always think of her as a step below and she’d be bored in his socialite way of life. 

 

But losing him… losing him would be far past what she could ever imagine. 

 

That would be too painful. Too much to bare. 

 

She couldn’t survive it. Not again. 

 

She started sobbing and his resolve softened for an instant, his hand lifted as if to reach out to her, to offer her some comfort.

 

“MALFOY! I think it’s time you go, you’re clearly upsetting Hermione,” it was Ron who was speaking to him now and Draco’s eyes hardened again, his hand shooting back to his side. 

 

“Do you want me to go?” he swallowed, he took one step closer to her as the Weasley gang descended. 

 

Hermione panicked as Ron’s arm draped across her shoulder, trying to comfort her from some unknown argument. 

 

“I said, do  _ you _ want me to go?” he said again, his eyes waiting. Waiting for her to make up her damn mind and say something. 

 

She gulped and Charlie was there, suddenly. Wrapping a giant sweater around her cold arms and rubbing his palms up and down them for warmth. 

 

He glared at Malfoy with a smugness that made Hermione’s blood run cold. 

 

“Mate, I don’t think it’s the right time for whatever the hell is going on here… Chuck is all sorts of bent out of shape…” Ron spoke lightly to him. 

 

“Charlie, what’s gotten into you?” she moved from his hands, her eyes hurt and disappointed.  

 

“Don’t worry about it, Granger. Point taken. I’m gone,” Malfoy sneered. 

 

Draco turned on his heel and she took a step to stop him. 

 

“Draco! Don’t go!” she called but Charlie’s arm caught her by the elbow gently. 

 

“Let him go, ‘Mione…” 

 

For some reason she listened. For some reason she let him walk away from her… and damnit, it hurt like hell. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELLLLLLLL?!?!
> 
> Don't worry, we are heading swiftly to a resolution. 
> 
> Please, tell me your thoughts friends!


	21. Choosing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURRRRPRISEEEEEE!!!!!

Draco didn’t get ahold of her. Not Monday or Tuesday. Certainly not Wednesday or Thursday... and when there was a knock on her door Friday late afternoon, her heart leapt into her chest and then crashed as saw Theo standing there, a sheepish look on his face. 

 

“Hey there, Hermione,” his face pulled up into a sweet, shy smile. 

 

“Oh, hey Theo…” 

 

“Do you have a minute? I have some paperwork to hand over about Dragonheart and a few things to go over.”

 

“Of course,” she smiled and he strolled in, closing the door. 

 

“So, mostly, our team is just about finished with our end! Of course, I’m sure uh, Malfoy, will be available for any other consulting that you might need--”

 

“You know, don’t you?” she winced. There had a been a way he stuttered around Malfoy’s name. 

 

“Uh, yea…” he admitted. 

 

“So he told you?”

 

“Yea, he was in some sort of way the other night. I think it was Sunday? It wasn’t pretty… They called me down to the Hawthorne to collect his sorry ass and he let me in on it. I’m not gonna lie… I wish I would have known. I would have never--” 

 

“I know, I absolutely should have told you. I hope you don’t feel like I was using you or trying to make Draco upset by spending the evening with you.”

 

“Yea, why did you?”

 

“Why did I what?”

 

“Spend the night with me? If you were so upset about Draco, why would you want to spend the night with his best man?” 

 

His tone wasn’t accusatory or angry, he was asking sincerely and she took a moment to think on it before offering him an easy answer. 

 

“Well, I’ll begin by saying… that regardless of anything else, I would never have gone home with you that night if I knew that you were Draco’s best man. I had no idea you two were so close. Harry and Ron were also at the Stag Party and they are casual friends, so I didn’t realize. As much as I would have loved to gut Draco at that time, I wouldn’t have done it like that. But if I’m being honest?” she bit down on her lip and he raised his eyebrows, waiting, “I honestly, just  _ wanted _ to go home with you,” she laughed and covered her blush with her palms, “I thought you were incredibly charming and good looking. I wanted to spend a night with you, especially a difficult night, like the night before his wedding.”

 

“Well, I’ll take it,” he slapped his palms against his thighs and she jumped at the noise, “I knew something had been going on these past few weeks… I thought you were messing around with Blaise to be honest. To which, I would have been horribly offended that you would stiff armed me and went around with that prat,” he laughed but it turned uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat. 

 

“How is he?” she asked in a low, serious voice. 

 

“He’s Malfoy,” he shrugged, “Cranky and ornery as ever.”

 

“Really?”

 

“He’s hurt; he’s not talking though… not after Sunday. On Sunday he was pretty bummed. He thinks he’s lost you and that you’re with Charlie now. He  _ really _ hates that twathead.”

 

“THEO!” she laughed and then turned serious quickly, “Would you… would you tell him that I miss him? I know it’s an awful thing to ask… but I don’t know if he wants me to reach out to him. I don’t know if he even wants to see me… I just know, that I miss that stupid, cranky, ornery prat.”

 

“I’ll tell him,” his eyes softened and she felt a bit like crying. 

 

\-----

 

They talked for awhile about the transition of Dragonheart to the Ministry to its own independent team. The funds were transferred and now the proper paperwork from the MEU resided with them too.

 

Malfoy Consulting was done. He had no reason to contact her. 

 

There was a knock on her door and she was surprised to see Charlie standing there. 

 

She quickly felt uncomfortable as Charlie greeted Theo and Theo stiffly nodded in response. Charlie didn’t quite seem to  understand the tension but he brightened as he turned to Hermione.

 

“Hey, ‘Mione… Do you have a minute?”

 

“Sure,” she looked to Theo for approval. 

 

He nodded and she stood to leave her office with Charlie, stepping just outside the door and out of sight. 

 

“How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a few days… I was getting worried…” Charlie confessed with a blush. 

 

“Sunday was a lot…” she wasn’t really mad at him but there was some unresolved tension, “You really weren’t acting like yourself--”

 

“--Do you have plans tonight?” he blurted, cutting her off.

 

“I don’t know if we should tonight, but I think we should definitely talk soon,” she grimaced. 

 

“Please? I’ve already got tickets! ” he lit up. 

 

“Tickets?”

 

“Harpies vs. Cork! It’s Ginny’s first game back and I know she’d love if you were there. I got some great seats and it’ll be a blast… I’d like to make it up to you,” his face was so eager, so innocently excited that she felt her resolve give way… even if it was Quidditch. 

 

“Charlie, I’d love to see Ginny back but--” 

 

He cut her off before she could finish. 

 

“Brilliant! I’ll pick you up at 6 and I’ll have some Holyhead gear for you so you don’t stick out like a Weasley at Hogwarts,” he gave her a playful poke in the ribs and she gave a forced smile. 

 

Theo stood nervously and grabbed the rest of his files messily and she scrunched her face at him.

 

“There wasn’t too much left here to go over,” Theo said quickly, “I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

 

“Oh! Alright then…” she furrowed her brows. 

 

“I’ll see you around, Granger.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yea, I’ve got to run actually. Lost track of time.”

 

“Hot date or something?” she laughed and then all of a sudden felt concerned with his twitchy behavior. 

 

“Something like that! I’ll see you!” he rushed out the door and she felt like if they were in a Muggle TV show there would be small action lines chasing him out the door.

 

“These Wizards…” she mumbled to herself and set back to work.

 

\-----

 

She had to admit, she was grateful that Charlie was bringing her some Harpie gear. She owned very little in the shades of Green and Yellow… a bit, but certainly nothing appropriate for a game. 

 

She heard a knock on her door and answered it and almost choked on her laughter. 

 

“Are you ready for the night of your life?!” Charlie answered head to toe in Holyhead garb and she couldn’t contain herself. 

 

He was wearing a team shirt and denims but his arms and half his face was painted and he had a giant hat on, like the ones the twins had worn to the Quidditch World Cup. 

 

“You’re not serious!” she bent over in laughter, “You look completely ridiculous!” 

 

“As will you,” he grinned and pulled out a headband with springs adorning the top. On one spring was a witch on her broom chasing the Snitch on the other spring.  

 

He also handed her a giant green and yellow t-shirt and on the back was WEASLEY across the shoulders. 

 

“Ginny will fall off her broomstick if she sees me at the game, but this decked out? She would lose her mind… straight to Saint Mungo's…” Hermione held up the sweatshirt with a critical glare. 

 

“Do it for Gin! And for me…” he smiled and leaned in to kiss her and she stiffened ever so slightly. His lips felt wrong on hers and she broke the kiss quickly but casually.

 

Something had changed between them.. The energy that had already felt so very limited before, fell flat now. 

 

“For Gin,” she teased and threw it over her shirt and headband, “How's it look?” 

 

“Almost perfect…” he reached into his pocket and dipped his thumb in a tiny jar of black paste and he then dragged his dirty thumb across her cheekbones, creating thick black lines she had seen on athletes before, “There. Perfect.” 

 

\-----

  
  


The date with Charlie was...interesting. 

 

They did indeed have great seats, front row, mid way up. 

 

What he had failed to mention was that Harry, Ron and George had seats right next to them. 

 

What had started with a tight coil of guilt in her belly had relaxed into a lull of annoyance. Charlie was enthralled with the game and spent most of the time with his arm slung over her shoulder and chatting with the boys about the various aspects of the game she didn’t give two figs about. 

 

She didn’t know how it wasn’t more obvious that she was utterly bored. Ginny had yet to play and Charlie laughed so loudly it constantly shook her shoulders. 

 

Finally at a break in the game he turned towards her but seemed oblivious to the tone of her attitude. 

 

“Hungry?”

 

She lifted her eyebrows in a way that seemed too obvious… surely she was being obvious that she was annoyed. 

 

Any minute he was going to start licking his wounds from her icy behavior.

 

“Right, me too. I’ll be back!” 

 

He ran towards the vendors in the hall outside their area of seats and Hermione’s jaw dropped. Charlie’s seat was quickly replaced by Harry. 

 

“I have to say, now that Charlie is gone, I’m surprised to see you here… and to see you… so festive,” he grinned. 

 

“Shove it, Potter. I bit off more than I could chew, didn’t realize what I was getting into…”

 

“Sorry, were you talking about today or the last few months?” 

 

She gasped and turned to confront him, but his face wasn’t being mean. He was just simply... calling her out. 

 

“This isn’t you, Hermione. None of it. And I hate to sit here and bring this up in the middle of Ginny’s match but yea, I’m gonna do it. What are you doing?”

 

“I don’t know,” she groaned into her hands, “This all got away from me… I never in a million years thought this was going to happen. I don’t know how to even fix it…”

 

“When you came back from Colombia you were convinced you were broken beyond repair. You weren’t. You were in bad shape, but you figured it out. I don’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of how you did it… nor do I actually agree with any of it… but you did it. Now, time to do it again, because this situation you’ve found yourself in is messy as hell.”

 

“I know… I’ve fucked everything up.”

 

“You haven’t, not yet.”

  
“How do I fix it?”

 

“You make up your damn mind! You're Hermione Granger! I could list off a dozen accolades, but you don't need them. YOU are enough, you are MORE than enough. You can walk away from both these assholes right now and still be just fine on your own. And I have a feeling, you don’t need to make up your mind anyway.”   
  
“What do you mean?”

 

“I have a feeling the person you are supposed to pick is glaringly obvious but you are desperately trying to make that not the case.”

 

“And  _ why _ pretell, would I do that?” she felt a knot in her throat and tried to swallow it whole. 

 

“Hell, I don’t know… but I have a venture that it’s because you’re still pissed at him. And that’s ok! Don’t you think I’m still pissed at Gin? She was pregnant for  _ weeks _ and never mentioned it. Never said a goddamn word and then… THEN she goes through this massive trauma of losing our baby… and she STILL won’t talk to me. And now? She is moving hundreds of miles away to pursue professional fucking Quidditch. You better believe I’m right pissed. But I’m here, ‘Mione. I’m here for her through all of it. I’ll forgive her and we will work through it, but in order to do that? _ I have to be here _ .”

 

“And what does that have to do with my situation?” she gulped. 

 

“It means, if you want a future with him?  _ You _ have to be there. And I’m sorry, but if you keep playing this the way you are, you won’t be.”

 

“OK! BACK!” Charlie shouted and Hermione felt the tears welling up in her eyes as Harry gave her a meaningful look and returned to his seat on the other side of George. 

 

“Alright, I’ve got chips with cheese sauce and popcorn! So I hope you like one of those!” he smiled. 

 

He plopped the chips in her lap and she felt her breath hitch as she watched the scene play out in front of her. 

 

As she replayed the words Harry had said to her moments before, everything slowed to a glacial pace as she watched Charlie laugh with his brother and spill popcorn on the floor while the Quidditch players moved towards invisible targets she couldn’t see. 

 

“Granger,” a cool voice broke her trance and she shook her head as she looked up, feeling the springs of her ridiculous headband bouncing around, and saw Draco standing there. She blinked, once, twice, three times to make sure she wasn’t seeing anything. 

 

He moved quickly, taking one knee and getting down on her eye level, Charlie hadn’t noticed his presence yet but Harry had and was watching them intently. 

 

“What are you doing here? How did you know I’d be here?” she sat forward, curious.

 

“Theo told me,” he rushed, checking over her shoulder to see if Charlie was paying attention, “I’m not here to interrupt your date…, well, I am in a way. Hermione, I couldn’t wait one more minute before I told you how desperately I...,” his eyes were thick with intensity and her breath caught in her throat, “I know, I know I’ve been acting like a complete ass these last few days. But I’m not done, I’m not done loving you. And I meant it when I said that I wasn’t going to be the one to leave you, I can’t. Not even if I wanted to and trust me, there have been a few times I thought it would be easier to walk away. I might be a stubborn ass at times, but I love you. Helplessly and I promise--

 

“OI! Malfoy! You better be fucking joking me…” Charlie was rising to his feet, popcorn flying onto her lap as she stared at Draco’s face with bated breath. 

 

“Don’t stress yourself, Weasley,” Draco stood fluidly, his normal facade returning, “I came only to deliver a message and I have. I’m done, enjoy the game.” 

 

He turned without waiting for a response and Hermione stared at the space he had occupied. A million thoughts and feelings ricocheting around her brain…

 

“Hermione, are you ok? What did he say? Hermione?” Charlie’s concerned voice sounded like he was speaking to her underwater, a background noise. 

 

A million tangible memories played out. 

 

Playing checkers and losing. Reading a Muggle book tucked between his thighs on a lazy morning as he read over her shoulder and rubbed circles on her skin with the pads of his fingers. Dancing barefoot. Arguing over nothing. Arguing over everything. Watching him walk away. 

 

But the others weren’t memories, persay. They were all… a feeling…

 

The way his breath felt against her neck and how he tasted of too strong tea and toothpaste. The feeling she got when he made eye contact with her in a room filled with people but made her feel like she was the only one there. The flutter in belly when they kissed… the way her hair raised on it’s ends when their knuckles would barely brush against the other in a lift. 

 

She sucked in a deep breath and turned sharply to Charlie who was staring at her with a serious and disappointed face. 

 

She felt all at once deliriously happy and devastated while looking at his clear blue eyes. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream. 

 

Because Harry had been right. 

 

There had never been a decision she needed to make… rather a decision she needed to accept. 

 

It had always been Draco. 

 

Ridiculous, challenging, infuriating Draco. 

 

The one who knew her. The one who would bring her books instead of flowers and lead her through dances she didn’t know. 

 

Draco knew her in a way that she was positive no one else ever would. 

 

She had tried in vain to make it Charlie… Charlie would have been an easier choice. He may have even been the right choice, in most ways. 

 

But as it was now glaringly obvious… it had never been a choice at all. 

 

“It’s him, then?” Charlie finally managed. 

 

“Charlie… I’m so sorry…”

 

He withdrew his arm and returned his glare to the field with a tight jaw. 

 

Harry was staring at her but Ron and George seemed none the wiser. She mouthed a simple ‘I’m sorry,” to Harry to which he nodded stoically and she was off her seat and tearing out of their box in a instant. 

 

She turned frantically to the left and to the right, unsure of the direction he had gone. She panicked slightly, trying to veer through the throngs of people still up and making their way to get food or use the loo while the break was still on going.

 

She thought she saw a quick flash of blonde off to her left and tore through the crowd as fast as she could push people out of her way. She mumbled a hundred sorry’s but felt breathless as she approached the stairs and still no Malfoy in sight. 

 

“Damnit!” she cursed and turned around frantically. She’d lost him again. 

 

“Granger?!” 

 

His voice called above the crowd and her eyes shot up, looking for him wildly. 

 

He was standing there, his chest full of a breath he didn’t seem to want to relinquish control of, his jaw tight. 

 

“Draco!” she yelled back and rushed towards him, still moving clumsily through the crowd of people. Finally when she was within distance she jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing their chests flush, his hands finding her bum and holding her weight effortlessly. 

 

She wasted no time in tangling her hands in his hair and kissing him roughly. 

 

He was smiling so largely, he wasn’t even kissing her properly but she didn’t care. She kissed his teeth, his lips, his cheeks. 

 

“Does this mean what I think it means, Granger? Are we stuck together now?”

 

“Shut up, would you?” she replied flatly, “Can we go?”

 

“You mean, you don’t want to stay in those shit seats and watch the two worst teams in Europe battle out a game you don’t give a fuck about?” he laughed. 

 

“Did you not hear me earlier when I said shut up?” she nipped at his ear and he laughed. 

 

The most beautiful noise. 

 

\-----

 

“I am burning this,” he muttered against the skin of her shoulder as he flung the Harpy sweatshirt with WEASLEY emblazoned across the back behind her couch. 

 

“Don’t you dare! It’s for Gin!” 

 

They had landed in Hermione’s flat in a fury of belt buckles, buttons and ripped seams. His lips scorching a path down her neck as he tore the tank top from her torso and kissed between her breasts, nipping at her hip bone while her hands tugged at his hair. 

 

They fell into her bedroom and he settled, still fully clothed between her thighs. 

 

She wanted to kick him off just so she could remove her damn denims but he seemed to be intent on setting the pace… a beautifully furious pace that left her panting. 

 

He tore down the cups of her bra to expose her breasts and spent agonizing minutes giving each one dutiful attention. 

 

“Draco…” she all but growled and he smiled against the flesh of her breast before lifting off of her and standing tall at the edge of the bed, his eyes full of lust and adoration. 

 

He worked quickly at his belt buckle and tore his shirt off, revealing his lean abdomen that she reached up to stroke without thought, his muscles flexing under her cool touch. 

 

“I missed you,” she confessed breathlessly. 

 

Those words ignited something in him and he crashed down on her, his hands working quickly to remove her jeans and almost impossibly quickly, sheathing himself inside her. 

 

She gasped and arched into him, her body feeling at home with him. 

 

He paused there for a moment, before pulling himself out to hilt and then pressing into her again, this time studying her face as he filled her. 

 

Again. 

 

Again. 

 

This torment was proving too much for her as she writhed underneath him and with a quick hitch of her knee and turn of her hips, he was under her. 

 

Her bra still tugged down, black grease till staining her freckled cheeks and a face of pure euphoria as she found a rhythm of her own atop him. 

 

He grinned and grabbed the fleshiness of her hips, thighs and ass, pulling her deeper and helping her to keep a pace that he knew would help her find her end. 

 

She threw her head back, exposing the long lines of her throat and his hand pawed at her breast, her own hand came up to grab his and squeezed along with him.

 

“I’m… I’m…” as she ground down with her hips, she found that she couldn’t articulate even a single sentence. She stopped trying… she rode out the orgasm that followed with feral grunts as Draco flexed his hips up into her, hitting that delicious spot that made her toes curl. 

 

When the last of her orgasm had faded he flipped her furiously onto her back and lifted her hips so that while he was resting back on his heels he could drive into her. She felt it everywhere as she screamed and her eyes clenched. 

 

After a few moments he grunted his release and she watched as the tendons in his neck and shoulders flexed together. 

 

He collapsed over her, holding his weight barely above her so as not to crush her but he eventually rolled onto his side, lying next to her. 

 

They stayed there, panting in post coital bliss for awhile before he draped his long arm over her waist and pulled her into his embrace, into that spot that fit her perfectly. 

 

It felt like a dream… like they could be in South America with a mosquito net all around them and no worries of the future to haunt them. 

 

But they were here. In her bed. 

 

With a million reasons to worry about the future and even more from the past. She was still angry and hurt and terrified of what was coming next. But she was here. 

 

But as Harry had told her, in order to fix this… she had to be here. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more "real" chapter after this... should we finish this up tonight??
> 
> Send me all your comments while I finish editing!!


	22. Fixing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. The last chapter... I am so emotional about this one! I think this has to be my favorite piece yet and I hope you guys have loved it as much as I have.

It would not be an accurate description to say that they spent all night between the sheets together.

 

For instance, there were brief moments of running to the rest room or grabbing a snack and some water.

 

They ate chocolate chip cookies in the sheets and Hermione had grumbled about Draco spilling crumbs in her sheets until he gave her a flat look, waved his wand and they vanished.

 

They argued about something silly and when she tried to storm out of bed he caught her around the waist and dragged her back in bed, pinning her beneath him, grinning. She was still holding on tightly to her anger and so he had mercilessly tickled her until she squirmed in laughter.

 

They didn’t talk about anything important… not yet.

 

They were trapped in a bubble that they didn’t dare tamper with. It reminded her of Cartagena… a bubble too perfect to be real. So they just... ignored that it existed.

 

At least for now.

 

For now, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Every inch of skin was a long ago secret that they were indulging in remembering.

 

They moved together like they had never stopped.

 

In a canopy of curls, they kissed in every way. Slow and languidly, fast and breathlessly. They memorized everything they had forgotten the last few months.

 

She hoped this part would never end.

 

But it was never that simple. The world outside her bedroom door waited with bated breath as they lay there, a entanglement of limbs and whispered endearments.

  
  


\-----

 

Hermione jumped as a knock of knuckles hit her flat door.

 

She sucked in a breath and cowered underneath her loose sheet, covering her face.

 

“Who could that be I wonder?” Draco drawled, his voice had a twinge of playfulness.

 

The bubble had been burst.

 

All it took was three short knocks and the crushing weight of reality descended.

 

“I assume it could be any number of people…” she said from beneath the covers, the tops of her curls escaping wildly.

 

“What are the chances that the person has red hair?”

 

“I would say at least 90%...” she groaned.

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

“So, should I get it then?”

 

“NO!” she screamed, “Maybe they’ll go away…”

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

“That isn’t looking likely, Granger. I’m happy to incur the wrath of any Weasley on the other side of that door for you,” Draco said with a puffed up chest and air of chivalry.

 

She smiled against his chest.

 

“Thank you, Draco. But this is something I’m going to have to deal with sooner or later… The longer I put it off, the worse it will be.”

 

She pushed up to seated and brought the sheet with her, draping it over her nakedness.

 

She dropped it to reach for her sweats and her Gryffindor Tshirt, the ratty one with the hole in the neck that she had worn the last time they really kissed in Cartagena.

 

She stood with her shoulders slumped and her face turned towards the ceiling.

 

“Can you Avada me instead?” she groaned with her eyes closed tight.

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

She could hear his movement and then felt his warmth as he took her face in his hands and kissed her firmly.

They still hadn’t really broached anything that felt dangerous. They didn’t talk about the last few months. Not Astoria or Charlie. Not even Blaise.

 

“Hermione Granger, Princess of Gryffindor, Brightest Witch of Our Age, Recipient of Order of Merlin First Class and any other epitaph that someone will someday write about you… you have faced Dragons… you have fought the darkest Wizards of our century,” he gripped her shoulders firmly and she opened her eyes to look at him seriously, “You can handle any fucking Weasley on the planet.”

 

Laughter bubbled up her throat and she shoved him back onto the bed laughing and turned towards her door.

 

She didn’t look through peephole, knowing it wouldn't matter anyway.

 

Charlie. Ron. Ginny.. Molly… it would all be awful.

 

But it was Harry, of course, it was Harry.

 

\-----

  


Harry stood there with a heavy expression and Hermione blushed violently. 

 

She stood nervously.

 

“‘Malfoy,” he nodded firmly, “Can I have a minute, ‘Mione?”

 

“Harry, I’m sure whatever it is you want to chastise me about can wait. Can’t you yell at me tomorrow?” she snapped defensively.

 

She had been waiting on someone to yell at her for how she left the game and she was taking out all of her guilt and anxiety on Harry.

 

“It’s an emergency, Hermione,” he said with a clenched jaw.

 

“Listen, I know. You’re not happy with me--” she rushed, pacing back and forth.

 

“That’s not it--”

 

“I shouldn’t have just left like that… but I couldn’t sit there and pretend through the rest of that game. It wouldn’t be right… I know it’s not right how I left either, but I--”

 

“HERMIONE!” Harry shouted and she jumped, staring at him, her sweats still her hands, “Charlie’s hurt.”

 

Her heart plummeted into her gut and her arms went lip at her side.

 

“What?”

 

“He’s at Mungos… I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure I should tell you… but I thought you might want to know.”

 

“Harry Potter, tell me right now what’s going on,” she took a small step forward.

 

“He went to that Dragon last night--”

 

“Annie?” she blanched.

 

“Yes, he said he had to go check on her after the game. From what we understand, Annie’s location was found by some poachers. He was outnumbered and left injured,”

 

“WHAT?!” she hissed, “Is he alright?”

 

“He was able to conjure enough magic to send a Patronus to Saint Mungos. He’s gonna be alright, but he’s pretty banged up.”

 

“And Annie?”

 

“She escaped. Charlie took the brunt of the damage and once he was unconscious and Annie was gone, they left him alone. Thank Merlin,” Harry shook his head, “I just thought you should know.”

 

“I have to go--”

 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

 

“I have to go see, Harry. I’m not going to just pretend that these last few months never happened just because he’s not the man I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with.”

 

“I’ll wait, we can go together. The rest of the Weasley’s are there... “

 

She nodded, knowing what he was alluding to. Confrontation.

 

She rushed into her bedroom, tossing her sweats on the bed and yanking the drawer of her dresser. She pulled out a pair of jeans and started stuffing her legs into them and pulled her tshirt over her head, exposing her breasts. She barely noticed.

 

“Granger…”

 

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I’ve got to run. Charlie is in Saint Mungo’s--”

 

“I heard. But, I don’t see what you are going to accomplish by going?” his voice was tight.

 

“I have to go,” she said simply.

 

“You don’t… you really don’t.”

 

Her fingers worked the clasp on her bra and she snatched a jumper from her closet.

 

“Of course, I do. The Weasley’s are my family and Charlie was injured last night. Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Ridiculous?” he repeated sadly, his voice dripping in disbelief,  “Not 24 hours after you come back to me you are running off to be with him. What am I supposed to be feeling? How would you feel if I ran to Astoria right now?”

 

She paused in her manic mission to look at him intently.

 

She stepped close and placed her hands on his face.

 

“If the roles were reversed, I would insist you go to Astoria. It’s the right thing, even if it’s the hard thing.”

 

His eyes were clouded and she wanted to say whatever it was that would make him feel better… but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do that for him because someone else needed her.

 

The plight of the Gryffindor.

 

She kissed him firmly and rushed towards her Floo.

 

Leaving him standing in her room, forlornly watching his witch run towards another man.

 

\-----

 

They arrived at Saint Mungos and the calmness stirred something in Hermione. Her environment was such a stark contrast from what was inside her.

 

In the waiting room there were the Weasley siblings. George and Bill were somberly sipping tea from paper cups in the corner. Percy was alone, reading the Prophet. Ron and Ginny were sitting near the window, speaking low to each other.

 

Hermione felt, all of a sudden, an intruder.

 

True, this had been her surrogate family for a decade, but in this moment, she felt she had horribly betrayed them.

 

She sat next nervously next to Ginny who gave her a weak smile and rested her head on her shoulder. The simple gesture letting her know she was welcome here.

 

“Hey, ‘Mione,” Ron nodded, his eyes too familiar, too close to Charlies.

 

“How is he?” she felt Ginny stiffen slightly.

 

“He’s doing alright. Most of his major physical injuries have been sufficiently repaired but there are some that need a little more time. He has a pretty serious concussion they are monitoring. The healers aren’t comfortable pumping him full of that much magic at once. So his broken ribs and bruises will take awhile to heal. He’s gonna be alright though,” she squeezed her arm and lifted her head, “Are you ok?”

 

“Me?” Hermione asked her eyes wide.

 

“I heard… Harry told me. He told me it’s Malfoy,” Ginny looked at her with clear eyes, no anger lingering.

 

“I’m so sorry… I should have come to that conclusion a long time ago. It wasn’t right of--”

 

“Save it for Charlie--” Ginny lifted her hand to her friend.

 

“I don’t think I should see him,” she grimaced.

 

“You should. I’m sure he’d like to see you. Mum and Dad are back there but just go peek back.”

 

“I can’t,” Hermione confessed, staring at her lap.

 

“Buck up, girl. You can do anything,” Ginny nudged her.

 

Hermione bit her lip and stood.

 

“And, Hermione?”

 

“Hmm?” she turned back.

 

“I always knew it was Malfoy...but it’s ok that you didn’t,” she said truthfully, “We lost out on all those years of being normal kids and managing the waters of romantic relationships. Inside, we are all just a bunch of 4th years with no idea what the fuck we’re doing.”

 

Hermione gave her a wry smile and nodded.

 

Each step she took towards Charlie’s room caused the knot in her belly to swell and tighten in on itself.

 

She should have prepared herself. Thought of what she wanted to say… but as she pushed the door open and her breath caught in her throat, she knew it would have been a waste.

 

She would have forgotten upon seeing him anyway.

 

There was a bandage wrapped around his head, stained with blood and he had some bruising on his cheekbone and down his neck. His arm was wrapped close to his body and his shirt was off, revealing a smattering of black, blue and purple injuries.

 

His eyes were closed but as a small gasp left her lips, his eyes popped open.

 

“Hermione, dear,” Molly cooed, “How lovely of you to stop by.”

 

She hadn’t even noticed Molly was in the room until her arms were wrapped firmly around her.

 

Arthur gave her an awkward smile and a pat on the shoulder before leaving.

 

“We were just going to grab some lunch, we will leave you two to chat,” she smiled but her eyes were filled with concern and sadness. She must have some idea of what had happened after the Quidditch game.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked squarely, his jaw tense and his eyes staring at the space in front of him, not seeing her.

 

“I wanted to check on you… I wasn’t going to come back but Ginny encouraged me. Are you in any pain?”

 

His hard eyes flicked to her then, “More than you can imagine.”

 

“Charlie…” she began, not knowing what she intended to say.

 

“Don’t. I don’t need anything from you.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” she took a few small steps so that she was next to his bed, “I know I’ve made a right mess of this. I never intended to hurt you and I should have given myself more time… more time to heal before starting anything with you.”

 

Her voice was shaking and she could feel the prickle of tears at the corners of her eyes.

 

It was silent for a long moment and his eyes and resolve softened.

 

“It’s not all your fault,” he said in a small voice, “I knew. I can’t pretend I didn’t know you were still getting over someone. I just thought… I thought maybe I’d be enough. That I could be the one who fixed it. I shouldn’t have pushed you… and when I realized it was Malfoy and that you guys still had something, I should have been the bigger man and walked away... I’m sorry too.”

 

“Oh, Charlie, there is _nothing_ for you to be sorry for. Do you hear me? You are…” she laughed to herself, “You’re such a good man. You’re probably the better man… It’s why I so selfishly held onto you for so long. I just wanted it to be you. Our relationship would have been so easy, as easy as breathing. Natural and uncomplicated. I kept thinking I had this huge choice to make, but I’ve realized… I never had a choice. It was just me running from what I already knew.”

 

“And what is that you know?”

 

She sighed, “That Malfoy, infuriating, cranky and impossible Malfoy, is the one. Trust me, there have been more times than I can count that I wish he wasn’t. But if--” the tears were falling more freely now and he held his hand out for her, when she took it, he tugged her down to curl into his side. She did.

 

She probably shouldn’t have… but she did.

 

“If I had chosen you, it wouldn’t have been in the right circumstances. And I’ve been selfish enough these last few months… I’m going to let you go and someday, I will hate the witch lucky enough to call you hers.”

 

His chest shook with a low laugh under her cheek and she felt her cheek pull up into a smile.

 

They were silent then.

 

Just enjoying this one last moment as long as it had lasted. She wiped her tears as they fell and he rubbed her arm, comforting her.

 

“Is Annie ok?”

 

“She is. She’s being transferred back to Romania, apparently some stupid git named Malfoy donated a buttload of money and they are adopting her as a permanent resident,” he grumbled.

 

“He did what?! What does that mean for you?” she pushed up on her elbow and looked down at him, her eyes tightening at his bandages and bruises now that they were close.

 

“I’m going back,” he said solemnly.

 

“But, your promotion!”

 

She knew she shouldn’t want him to stay. It would only make things more difficult for everyone, but that selfish side of her was there again, screaming that she wanted it all.

 

“Eh, it’s not a promotion. Being out there last night, dueling to save a helpless Dragon? That’s what I’m supposed to be doing. Not paperwork and attending galas… that’s never been me. I’ll leave those battlefields up to you. No… I’ll be out in the country, riding dragons and raising those triplets. I’ll make sure you get an invite to their release, it’ll be a big moment.”

 

Hermione’s eyes searched his face and memorized it, again and again.

 

“So this isn’t goodbye?” she said with a gulp and fresh tears staining her cheeks.

 

“Nah,” he said casually, “I have a feeling my family would sooner disown me than you,” he gave her that adorable lopsided smile and wrapped his arm around her neck pulling her face towards him and as she panicked, he kissed her forehead quickly and released her.

 

She stood clumsily, having a hard time crawling from his side without causing more injury.

 

“I’ll miss you,” she shrugged.

 

“Miss you too, ‘Mione,” her hand reached for the door but he spoke again before she could open it, “If he hurts you, which I have the horrible feeling that he will. You have permission to call me. If nothing else, I’ll kick his ass.”

 

He grinned that big beautiful smile that she adored and she couldn’t help but return it.

 

“I don’t deserve you, even as a friend. You’re one of the good ones.”

 

“Eh, so they keep telling me. Just hoping someday I’ll be the right one.”

 

His eyes looked towards the window and while she wanted to say something, she knew there was nothing left to be said.

  
  


\-----

 

She left quickly, only pausing to wave goodbye to the Weasley’s. She rushed down the lifts and as soon as the cold autumn air hit her skin she let out a broken sob.

 

She was constantly making a mess of things.

 

Ginny was right. She was about as emotionally competent as a group of 4th years.

 

She had a chance at real happiness with Draco. Their relationship came with so much baggage, but they could unload that together. They just had to leave their bubble first.

 

She Apparated home and rushed through the door, words she wanted to say already forming.

 

“DRACO!”

 

“Yes, Granger?” he replied coolly.

 

Draco was seated on her small, torn up loveseat, an ankle over his knee and one of her books perched open on his lap.

 

“You’re still here!” she panted.

 

“Indeed,” he clipped.

 

“I thought you might have left…”

 

“Yes, well I considered it. But I thought you might need someone when you got back. I wasn’t sure the exact situation you were walking into. Is he ok?”

 

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart rate returning to normal.

 

“Plans to see him again?”

 

He ran his tongue across his teeth and his eyes were flat.

 

“Don’t do that,” she shook her head sadly, “Don’t make this into something it’s not. He was injured and whether or not you like it, the Weasley’s and Charlie will always be in my life. Charlie has been a large part of these past few months. He helped me return to the land of the living after you got married--”

 

“--You know I didn’t have a choice--”

 

“But you did,” she said quickly, finally speaking the words that had been laying so heavily on her heart. The words that stopped her from choosing him weeks ago, “You had a choice and you chose wrong. And that’s fine, or it will be fine… I don’t know. But I don’t just forgive you like that, you know,” she said passionately, “You broke my heart. Shattered it. And then when it was convenient for you, you changed your mind. I don’t know how I’m going to trust you. I want to, Draco, very badly. But I don’t know how to start.”

 

The book clamped shut loudly at made her jump.

 

“Do you think this has been easy on me?” he challenged, “I’ve had to compete with that prat for weeks. Knowing all the things you did with me, you were doing with him. Do you know how many nights I lay awake just seething because I knew he had gotten to kiss you that day? How it tore my insides to think of smiling and laughing with another man.”

 

“BUT THAT’S NOT MY FAULT!” she shouted.

 

“No, don’t you dare. I left Astoria and I was honest with you about how that marriage was. You knew that I wasn’t intimate with her, that I had been abstaining. She wanted to try, she thought if we were trapped in that marriage we might as well make it work the best we could, to find some comfort with each other, if we couldn’t be with who we really loved. I shut it down. I wouldn’t touch her, could hardly look at her. She wasn’t you and that tore me apart. You think you were the only one broken? _You chose someone else too,”_ he accused the last part and she felt angry to her bones.

 

This was what they needed. It was hard and messy and she wanted to close the door on this once and for all… but it wasn’t that easy. They had to work through this part if they had a chance at moving on to the next.

 

“YOU WERE MARRIED!” she reared back at him again, tying her hair up in a messy bun, feeling like it helped her think or fight better.

 

“But I wasn’t always. And then I divorced her and you decided you needed _more_ time. More time to shag Weasley before you came back to me.”

 

He stormed towards the kitchen and her jaw dropped.

 

“Not that it’s any of your damn business, but Charlie and I have never slept together,” she didn’t really say it as a reassurance, more of a jab.

 

“Oh,” he clutched at his chest dramatically, “Thank Merlin I can live my life knowing Weasley never stuck it to you. He still groped at you, snogged you, woo’d you.”

 

Hermione threw a flat glare at him, “Do you really want to match up lists here, Draco? I’m sure yours dwarfs mine. But if you want to know the men who have groped, snogged and woo’d me so that you can loathe them for an eternity and continue to throw it violently in my face, then you can also add Viktor Krum, Cormac McClaggen, Ron Weasley, there was a few french boys named Mark and Alexandre, then Neville and of course, Theo--”

 

“Enough,” he sneered at her, “You’ve made your point. I officially hate all of them too.”

 

He ripped her fridge open and stared into it seeing nothing.

 

“After everything you’ve done, I don’t see how can you be so stubborn in assuming no responsibility for these past few months,” she set her jaw and tilted her chin.

 

He slammed the fridge door shut and the contents rattled around.

 

“How can you take _no_ blame? Am I to shoulder it all? We all know precious, perfect Weasley won’t take any,” he narrowed his eyes at her.

 

“He shouldn’t have to! _You were married, Draco,”_ she said it slowly, like she was talking to a child and Draco’s nostrils flared in annoyance.

 

“If you can’t forgive me, than what am I doing here? Why did you pick me? Just to roll around in bed for one last night before you go running back to him? Is that what you came back to tell me?”

 

“You really are an incorrigible arse. You know that, right?”

 

“You are so quick, Granger. So quick to forget that while you and Charlie had a heart stake in this game, I did too. Just because I put on a confident front, I was hurting every day. Trying my fucking hardest to find a way back into your heart. To that place that he seemed to settle into so perfectly in my absence. I have never made excuses for my bad decision making, especially where Astoria was concerned. But when I knew better, I did better. I left and I never looked back. I only ever looked to my future with you. How would you have felt if I asked you to battle it out with Astoria before I made a choice?”

His eyes were dark and hooded, his breathing shallow. She thought at any moment, with any provocation, he might cry.

 

For all her insecurities, she easily forgot that he had his own. And she had breathed them into life by visiting Charlie. She wouldn’t have changed that she went, she knew she had to do at least that… but she could have been softer about it.

 

She swallowed thickly and her hand reached up to cup his face. She would have been devastated to date Draco while he dated Astoria… she would have never managed it as well as he had.

 

“You’re right,” she said finally, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. His hand reached up to lay on top hers.

 

“Are you ever going to be able to forgive me?”

 

His eyes were closed as dared ask the question that had been plaguing him.

 

“Of course I can forgive you… but I need you to be patient with me as I work through these feelings. They aren’t going to be terribly pleasant and there are times I will still be cross with you.”

 

He rolled his eyes and grinned, “You’re always cross with me.”

 

“Can you forgive me? For how poorly I’ve handled these past few weeks?”

 

“Obviously,” he smirked and brought her close against his body, “I’d forgive you for anything. Not that you need to test the theory or anything.”

 

She laughed and shook her head, resting her forehead against his.

 

“I can’t just forget everything that happened these past few months. I can’t just pick up our relationship like we just got back from Colombia. Too much has happened for that… We have to fix this properly.”

 

“How?”

 

“I’ve fixed what we broke before, Malfoy. But now, at least we get to attempt it together…”

 

His face tilted slightly as he looked at her.

 

“Ok. Together,” he agreed and wrapped his arms around her waist, “How do we start?”

 

“We probably have to fight a little more,” she winced.

 

“Well, that won’t be so hard, will it? We always fight,” he grinned.

 

And even if she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but grin back.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there she is. 
> 
> Usually my epilogues are about 1-2 pages... short and sweet. The one for this is already 14 pages long and is not finished! Lots of fluffy good stuff to help you through coming soon! 
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this ride with me! It's been a blast and my favorite piece yet. 
> 
> I couldn't have done a single chapter of this story without SweetLilBullet and I have to worship at her feet someday for all of her late night talking. There were a million times I wrote myself into a corner and she helped me out. Thank you! 
> 
> I will see you all in a day or so for the epilogue! But the actual story arc is now done. 
> 
> WAHHHH!!!! I am gonna miss these characters!
> 
> Ok, enough whining. 
> 
> Xoxo!
> 
> Yours, LadyKenz


	23. End

Hermione had… a feeling.

 

Something had been off with just about everyone lately and she didn’t want to even give life to the feeling in her belly. But something was going on.

 

_Was he cheating on her?_

 

It wasn’t unlike either of them to be working late so often, but it was shiftiness about working late. Always avoiding her questions about work, never able to meet for lunch… It had been two weeks of this odd behavior and she could hardly stand it.

 

She didn’t feel like she was quite the right person for this. Her Gryffindor tendencies led her to prefer to ask him outright, while her Ravenclaw undertones told her it was best to gather more information first.

 

But there was no real information to be gathered. He was just distant… he was gone.

 

She asked Harry about it, who had gotten so uncomfortable in his own skin that her instincts positively prickled. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him shift uncomfortably at the easy question of, “Have you noticed Malfoy’s been acting odd?”

 

It’d been a year since the fiasco with Charlie and life had returned slowly but surely to normal. Or well, a new normal.

 

She hadn’t heard much about what Charlie was up to in Romania, but then, she didn’t ask. She had been horribly curious for months but didn’t think it was fair to revisit old wounds like that. Not to her or Charlie, certainly not Draco.

 

Harry and Ginny had felt a little awkward returning to Malfoy’s company but Ron bumbled along, never really understanding the situation. He knew there was some sort of love triangle, but for the most part he didn’t understand the entire nefarious, sordid affair. She was relieved of his and Molly’s ignorance.

 

And now, one year later, she paced.

 

Again and again.

 

Her tattered sweats dragging along the floor and her hair tied up in a ratty knot.

 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t cheated before. She had been his mistress after all, so what was to keep him from doing it again.

 

That thought infuriated her to her bones. She had thought they were happy… weren’t they happy?

 

Sure they argued over the different sections of the Prophet on Sunday Morning and maybe she left her towels on the floor… but there had been happiness too. Real, honest to goodness happiness.

 

She stopped dead in her tracks as she had a thought, _‘He was going to leave her.’_

 

She would have cried if she weren’t so bloody irritated.

  
After all they had been through together?

 

Oh, she wanted to wring his neck.

 

The door creaked open and Malfoy walked in, his hand massaging a knot from the tendons of his neck as he craned it.

 

“THERE YOU ARE!” she reared on him and his eyes went wide.

 

“Is it just me or have the greetings gone to piss when I come around?”

 

“And just where have you been?” her arms crossed and her foot tapping quickly.

 

He gave a dark chuckle, “You do remember I work, right, Granger?”

 

“Oh, right. _Work._ So you say…. Always work. Right then, who is she?”

 

“Pardon me?” he said with an arched brow and a curious eye.

 

“Your _whore_ ,” she accused.

 

Draco full out laughed now, his head falling backward and tears pricking his eyes.

 

“You’re mental, Granger. Truly.”

 

She picked up the nearest object and lobbed it at him. Unfortunately, it was a hardback book. He whacked it away from his face and stood, enraged.

 

“You had better think long and hard before you make your next accusation, Granger.”

 

“YOU _ARE_ CHEATING ON ME!” she rushed, talking no time whatsoever to think on it.

 

“I absolutely am **not** cheating on you,” he said with a flat glare.

 

“Right, but somehow work has just completely monopolized your evenings lately. Not to mention your shifty, awful behavior. You’ve been avoiding me and I _know_ Harry knows. You should have seen him,” she sneered, “Covering for you like you guys were best mates since infancy! As if he has no loyalty to me whatsoever. Not that _you_ would know about that. CHEATER!”

 

She was probably taking this too far. She wasn’t even exactly sure he was cheating… she just knew something was going on. After all, she had a feeling. But somehow her mind had created an entire affair and was now spiraling so hard and so fast she couldn’t grab the reins even if she wanted to.

 

“So you just _assume_ I’m sleeping with someone else? Because I’ve been a bit preoccupied? You didn’t think to just ask me?” he challenged her back.

 

“Oh, sure. Because that would of helped!”

 

“You could have at least tried. Instead of building up this nonsense!”

 

“Ok, Draco are you cheating on me?”

 

“No.”

 

“SEE!” she shouted, her hands flying into the air.

 

“Oh, you infuriating, ridiculous little witch,” he mumbled to himself and stormed into their room. The one they had been sharing for about 6 months now in her tiny little flat. The one she begged not to get rid of. So Draco had moved his beautiful things into her tiny little flat and they had made it home for half a year now.

 

“YOU ARE THE INFURIATING ONE! YOU HAD BETTER EXPLA--”

 

“Do you want to know why I’ve been a little off these last few weeks?” he reappeared his eyes wickedly amused. The twitch to his lips made her even more upset and she thought very seriously about tossing another book at him, “It’s because, had you been patient for even another 2 days you would have realized that that big, ostentatious birthday dinner I’ve been insisting on for you was just a way to get you surrounded by your friends and family. So that there, I could tell you how madly in love with you I am, even when you work yourself up into these kind of states. I would then proceed to tell you that I have never been happier than I am in this tiny flat with your smelly cat and wet towels on the bathroom floor. I’d tell you how I wish I would have found you sooner and loved you longer and how I never want to spend a day parted from you. I would have told you I’m sorry I’ve been so distant these past few weeks, but I wanted to do this big, huge, grand gesture for you to show you how much you mean to me and I was terrified of letting something slip or of dropping the ring,” he lifted his hands and in it was an ornate wooden box and Hermione gasped, “This ring, the one I had planned on lifting onto your small, accusing finger and asking you to be my wife.”

 

He opened the box and Hermione’s mouth dropped.

 

She couldn’t have chosen a more beautiful ring if she had been given full run of a jewelry store. There was a giant solitaire ruby on a thin band of diamonds and a rose gold setting.

 

“Draco Malfoy… what is happening right now?”

 

“Well, it appears that I am proposing to you, while you are in your pajamas, mid fight. Because, we can _never_ do anything the conventional way. So will you?”

 

“Will I what? Say it again,” she demanded, not wanting to believe what she was hearing, “And leaving out the parts about how I annoy you and my tiny accusing finger.”

 

Draco smiled and she swore she saw the beginning of tears at the corners of his eyes as he fell to one knee in front of her.

 

“Hermione Granger, will you please marry me?” he said with a gulp and serious eyes.

 

“OF COURSE, YOU PRAT!”

 

She jumped at him, laughing and nearly  knocking him over as he shot an arm out to brace them from falling. She was kissing him all over his face, again and again as he laughed and laid her back on the plush rug near their coffee table.

 

He created a cage over her with his arms as she tugged him down to smother him in more kisses.

 

“Does this mean you really aren’t cheating on me?” she paused her assault to verify.

 

“Merlin’s tit, Granger… Yes. Ok? Yes you can officially mark “Draco is having an affair” off your list of things to give yourself anxiety over. You are my witch, for life, it would seem.”

 

“Oh, how lucky am I!” she giggled and Draco slipped the ring onto her tiny, accusing finger.

* * *

 

 

Hermione stared at the tiny little pocket watch before her, her heart pounding frantically.

 

She hadn’t seen him in a very, _very_ long time.

She had felt parly obligated to attend the event, but she didn’t dare to admit to herself that she did want to go for her too.

 

Draco had declined the invitation, both formally as a benefactor to the Romanian Sanctuary and personally, as Hermione’s fiancee.

 

The pocket watch glowed faintly and Hermione hesitated for a moment before reaching her fingertips up. She was immediately swept away, the magic tugging at the space just behind her navel.

 

She arrived just outside the wards, she could feel the magic humming and she took a few steps and was back where it all began.

 

The sight before her, shocked her. The Sanctuary was alive with crowds of people, far more than she had ever expected. There were banners of brightly colored paper strung from post to post and a stage near the back of the Sanctuary.

 

She made her way towards the first of the enclosures, taking an offered champagne flute from a passing waiter. She slipped it slowly as she walked past the habitats, her mind drifting to the last time she was here. When she had been so full of self doubt and heartache.

 

Some things changed, others never did.

 

Her hands trailed along the stone half wall as she approached a larger pen than the rest. There was a large cave near the back and she could just make out the shimmery scales of her favorite dragon. Her eyes glistened as she stared at her.

 

“Hello, Stranger,” a familiar, warm voice called. Her heart picked up again and as she turned, she sucked in a deep, lungful of air.

 

“Charlie,” she smiled and embraced him casually.

 

“How did I know you’d be here?” he gave her that lopsided smile she had once loved and opened the door to the habitat freely, holding it open for her.

 

“Are you sure it’s alright?” she whispered.

 

“Oh, I think we’d have more of a mess on our hands if you _didn’t_ say hello. Annie would be quite upset.”

 

“Oh, I doubt she remembers me,” Hermione blushed as they made their way towards the cave, “How have you been?” she blushed.

 

“I’ve been really great, actually. More alive than I’ve felt in a long while. I’m still in London a bit, here and there, just to help with the Sanctuary as they get going but mostly, I’m here. And here, isn’t a bad place to be at all, is it, Annie?” he called and her beautiful gemstone eyes opened and stared at Hermione.

 

Annie’s tail flickered back and forth in excitement and Hermione grinned. She reached out to rest a hand on the giant dragon’s snout and felt Annie nuzzle into her hand a bit.

 

“How is she doing?”

 

“Brilliant,” he smiled at his Dragon, “She will be happy and comfortable for the rest of her life. Please tell Malfoy, ‘thank you’. I know the Sanctuary gave him some hoighty toighty award for his generosity… but personally, I want him to know. He saved my girl.”

 

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, even though Charlie was being perfectly pleasant.

 

“I hear Congratulations are in order,” he said with an awkward smile and his eyes drifted towards her left hand.

 

Her right flinched and covered it instinctively, almost protectively.

 

“Thank you,” she smiled awkwardly.

 

“I’m happy for you, Hermione,” Charlie’s eyes were clear and she could see that he was being honest, “So, he couldn’t make it today?”

 

“No, he thought it might distract from what I was here to do and he didn’t want to be a bother.”

 

“Ahhhh, that must be a first,” she turned towards him, confused, “him not being a bother that is,” he laughed.

 

“You might be right there…” she laughed a little and turned back towards the exit, “It’s always good to see you, Annie.”

 

Annie gave her a final nudge with her snout and then blinked slowly.

 

Charlie escorted her out and they chatted about the Sanctuary and the work that had since been accomplished.

 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Charlie beamed and Hermione eyes glanced to where he was looking, “This, is Olivia.”

 

A beautiful small, dark skinned woman melded into Charlie’s side, staring up at him with wonder and awe.

 

Hermione’s heart swelled at the sight.

 

“Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Hermione smiled at them.

 

Her heart didn’t pain like it would have seeing someone on Draco’s arm. She was just unbelievably happy for him.

 

“Hello,” Olivia’s bright smile almost left Hermione speechless.

 

“How did you two meet?”

 

“Olivia is actually a Dragon tamer as well. She was transferred here when Davidson took the promotion in London. She might be small but she’s one hell of a Dragon rider and can take control of the beasts with the best of them.”

 

“Oh, hush!” she pushed his chest playfully, her Scottish burr strong and thick, “I can hold my own. Charlie tends to give me too much credit.”

 

“I don’t give you nearly enough,” he smiled down at her.

 

“Well, I know you two have your hands busy today… I’m just here for the release. I can’t believe you’ve got such a turnout! I’ll let you two get back to it!”

 

“I thought you might want to help? I thought you could release Jean!”

 

Hermione paled, “Ohhh, I’m sure I’m not qualified.”

 

“Rubbish,” Olivia said with an air of confidence. Confidence that Hermione did NOT have, “It’s a simple unlocking spell. The three of us perform it at the same time and the Dragon’s will be released. Charlie will probably cry... “

 

“Hey!”

 

“What? You always cry…” Olivia ribbed him.

 

……….

 

Hermione was always uncomfortable on a stage. As the lights of the reporters flashed and the three teenage dragons craned their necks in front of them, she couldn’t help but feel a spike of anxiety.

 

“READY?!” Olivia shouted.

 

Charlie nodded, grinning and Hermione felt a little panicked but nodded along as well.

 

Jean, who’s scales had once been a beautiful lavender were not a deep, deep plum that had a beautiful shimmer of lavender in the sun. Charlie reminded Hermione that she was the Alpha of the three and as Hermione pushed the magic from her wand and towards the lock on Jean’s back foot, Jean’s wings spread magnificently.

 

Her wing span covered her brothers beautifully and Hermione took a sobering step back as the other two screeched over the crowd of people applauding.

 

Jean kicked off on her hind legs and soared into the sky, the wind from her wings flapping blowing Hermione’s hair back.

 

She had never in her life witnessed a more magical moment than this one… and to be fair, she had witnessed a fair amount.

 

Jean’s brothers joined her as they did a few lazy circles above the crowd and the made for the horizon, the sun just beginning it’s descent.

 

Hermione hadn’t really known that she needed closure. Closure with Romania… with Charlie. She thought that had all been settled in that urgent care room at Saint Mungo's all those months ago.

 

But here, seeing the Dragons that had once brought them together leave the nest, she felt at peace.

 

She looked over to him and while his eyes were at first on Olivia, he must have sensed that she was looking at him. His eyes turning to hers and giving her a knowing smile. He felt it too. This acceptance between them.

 

It wasn’t that she needed this moment in order to move on with her life. No… that wasn’t it. It was more, that she felt flooded with relief. There had been so many times she wondered if Charlie had felt how she had, after Cartagena. If she ruined something in him by choosing another.

 

But now, seeing how happy he was… she knew that it had been the right thing to let him go. Maybe he would have taken that job in London to be near her, he would have sat behind a desk and talked about other people doing the job he longed to do. He would have attended stuffy parties as her plus one or as a department head, probably own a few sets of dress robes that would make him feel suffocated.

 

No, Charlie Weasley was like those triplets. Meant for the wild. She had been wrong to ever think of caging him.

 

So, she hugged him and his beautiful girl and let him go again. This time, feeling it was effortless.

\-----

 

“The Manor is beautiful and epic and I’m sure it was a wonderful place to grow up--”

 

“We can’t keep living in this flat, Granger. It’s becoming crowded with just the two of us… What happens if a little Malfoy heir decides to appear after the wedding?”

 

Draco came up and wrapped his arms around her midsection, his hands splaying across her womb and she elbowed him hard in the ribs.

 

“I don’t think we need to worry about that for a long, LONG time,” she giggled and he faked an injury.

 

“Will you at least just come and look with me? I might be willing to compromise…”

 

“What kind of compromise?”

 

“What if we buy the house now and we don’t move until after the wedding?” he nuzzled her neck and asked innocently. He was trying to coerce her.

 

“That’s 4 months away! That’s hardly a compromise…”

 

His hands drifted from her waist to her hips gripping them tightly and pulling her back into his groin so that she could feel every inch of him.

 

“There’s no harm in looking, Granger.”

 

His long fingers now working on the button of her denims and working them down her thigh.

 

She bit her lip, smiling as she leaned her head back onto his chest, letting his lips trail down her neck and pepper kisses on the freckles of her shoulders.

 

“I’m just not convinced, you see…”

 

“There must be something I can do to convince you.”

 

His hands dipping into knickers and she gasped as he found her center, but not entering. He merely cupped her mound and let his fingers become slick.

 

“Draco… this is officially coercion.”

 

“Pshhh, it’s negotiation.”

 

“Do I have to be worried about your negotiation techniques at work?” she eyed him over her shoulder and he laughed.

 

“Come on, will you please,” at that word one finger slipped between her folds and she moaned, “Just come look at the house with me.”

 

“I’ll compromise... “ she breathed, “You do a good enough job in that bedroom and _then_ I’ll think about it…”

 

“Done.”

 

He turned her quickly and bent at his knees, throwing her over his shoulder like some barbarian as she yelped and laughed.

 

“DRACO MALFOY!” she swatted his bum with her palms, “PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!”

 

“No can do, Granger! I’ve got some serious negotiating to start on, no time to waste!”

 

She erupted into giggles as he tossed her playfully on the bed and crawled on top of her.

  


……..

 

Hermione made a face.

 

But she didn’t mean it. Her stubbornness was just showing.

 

The house was beautiful. It was bright and full of light pouring in from every oversized window. The counters were a sparkling, gray granite and each fixture seemed to shimmer as if someone had meticulously polished each one.

 

The master suite was large without being ridiculous and the en suite had a giant claw foot soaking tub and a walk in shower with one of those shower heads that seemed to pour rain down on you from the ceiling.

 

There were 3 other rooms upstairs, each one abundant in sun and space.

And Hermione fiddled with her engagement ring, she imagined a crib along that wall with a little magical mobile hanging overhead.

 

A tiny blonde baby cooing inside.

 

She walked from room to room in silence, her fingers trailing on the molding and along the painted walls. Draco, for all his previous pushiness about the house, kept silent.

 

His hands were shoved in his pockets, his worried brows low and his lips in a tight line.

 

As they came down the stairs, back into the sunlit foyer, she turned to him with tears in her eyes.

 

“Say something, Granger,” he laid in a low voice. He was nervous.

 

“I love it,” she said simply after a long moment.

 

His eyes which had been memorizing the floors he was sure they’d never walk on again, flicked up to hers in excitement.

 

“Really?!”

 

“Really…” she laughed turning around again.

 

“That’s good because I already bought it,” he confessed quickly.

 

“DRACO!” she reared on him in anger, her mood shifting so quickly she felt dizzy.

 

“I know, but I knew you’d love it. There were other offers and I had to move quickly…” he blushed.

 

“What if I didn’t love it?” she accused with a glare.

 

“I would have sold it for more money,” he shrugged and then wrapped his arms around her nervously, “Are you cross with me?”

 

“I’m always cross with you…” she made another face at him, “But… I do love this house…”

 

\-----

 

As Ginny closed up the zipper on her dress, Hermione took a deep breath.

 

She hadn’t tried the dress on in weeks and she was pleased to know it fit her perfectly. When she turned, she felt, for maybe the first time, stunningly beautiful.

 

The makeup artist had framed her face with such care and artistry that while she still looked like her, she looked flawless. Her chocolate colored eyes fringed with thick, full lashes and a slight blush on her cheekbones. Her lips were the perfect nude shade to compliment her skin which was simply glowing.

 

Her curls were twisted low at the base of her neck, a few rogue curls still managing to escape and tickle her cheek bones. It was finished with a diamond hair piece, gifted by Narcissa, tucked perfectly in her hair and a long veil draping down her back.

 

Her dress was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid on her.

 

It has illusion lace covering the bodice and in thin straps over her shoulders. The entire back was exposed, exposing the long, elegant lines of her spine before the tulle and silk exploded out at her waist into a full circle skirt with lace dripping down and disappearing about half way down.

 

“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” Ginny squeezed her shoulders.

 

“I can’t believe this is happening…”

 

“Are you happy?”

 

“It’s weird… I feel like there is no way to be happier than I am right in this moment, but I know in one hour this will feel like such a small part of it all. Everything is going to get so much better but my mind has no way of grasping that amount of joy. Is that that cheesiest thing I’ve ever said?”

 

Ginny giggled and rested her temple on her friends shoulder, “Probably… but I do have something for you!”

 

“I don’t need anything, Gin…”

 

“It’s not from me,” she smirked and Hermione’s eyes brightened.

 

Ginny pulled out a large, square, velvet box and on the top was a cream colored envelope with a familiar scrawl.

 

_To my Bride on the day of our wedding:_

 

_I’ve been staring at this parchment for far too long. Trying to think of a way to tell you how much you mean to me, without being sappy._

 

_I don’t think there’s a way… But as I intended to save all my sap for my vows._

 

_Know that I love you endlessly and unconditionally._

 

_I can’t wait to see you._

 

_I’ll be the handsome one at the end of the altar._

 

_-Yours, DM_

 

_P.S. And no, I don’t mean Blaise._

 

Hermione laughed to herself and pried open the beautiful box and she gasped at the beautiful set inside. There was a set of large teardrop diamond earrings, she didn’t know what size they were… as those things had never really tended to matter much… but she assumed they were about 2 or 3 carats.

 

The necklace was a stunning match but with a larger center stone, dripping from a smaller teardrop and surrounded by tiny diamonds that only seemed to make the larger one appear...well, larger.

 

She smiled and touched them lightly. Other than her engagement ring, she’d never owned something so quite so extravagant in her life.

 

She wrestled with the idea of being rich often.

 

She didn’t think she was a big fan of wealth. It made children spoiled and people have an air of false superiority. However, she was about to marry into a sizeable fortune and her guilt about that was only shadowed by her love of her fiance.

 

This had been a huge factor in insisting they not move into the Manor… they were still in their flat, the one he had moved into with her last year. She loved the home Draco has purchased for them and while they had plans to move there, it wasn’t time. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to where they had started…

 

“‘Mione? You ready?” Harry asked from the door frame, dressed immaculately in his robes. She had asked that he walk her down the aisle, in her father’s stead and he had agreed with tears in his eyes.

 

She moved quickly to fasten her new jewelry and then took a final sobering breath as she glanced in the mirror.

 

“Ready,” she grinned at her dear friend.

 

…..

 

“Draco, I remember once how I told you I did not believe in soul mates. I will never forget your reaction. Shocked and a little hurt that I did not think we were, above all of our challenges and shortcomings, meant to be. But as time went by, your love made me believe.

 

When I look back on the insane journey our two seperate lives have taken us on, the way they have wound together, veered apart… how could I not? The universe has conspired to bring us here today… how could I not believe that the two of us were cosmically meant for each other?

 

I vow to you, my soulmate, to be your lover, companion and friend,

Your partner in parenthood,

Your ally in conflict,

Your greatest fan and your toughest adversary.

Your comrade in adventure,

Your consolation in disappointment,

Your accomplice in mischief.

From this day, until the end of days.”

 

…..

  


“Granger, You know me better than anyone else in this world and somehow still you manage to love me. You are my best friend and true love. There is still a part of me today that cannot believe that I'm the one who gets to marry you. I, Draco Malfoy, forevermore, get to call you mine.

 

How lucky am I? To be the one who gets to love you.

 

I see these vows not as promises but as privileges: I get to laugh with you and cry with you; care for you and share with you. I get to run with you and walk with you; build with you and live with you. I get to love with you and fight you.

 

The luckiest bloke on the planet.”

 

…..

 

The ceremony and reception were small and intimate. Knowing that the affair could have been less than 50 people or easily over 400.

 

And so it was only for their closest friends, nestled deep in the gardens of Malfoy Manor under a lovely, striking arch tangled with ivy and giant white flowers.

 

They stayed outdoor for the reception, dancing under hanging twinkling lights surrounded by their loved ones.

 

Draco surprised her by singing along with the lead vocalist of their band, he had a deep throaty voice that wasn’t quite good but certainly not bad.

 

“Draco Malfoy, I didn’t know you could sing…”

 

“I don’t usually,” he spun her out and then back into his arms, “Only when I am my absolute happiest. Which I rarely am.”

 

She smiled as she looked up her husband, his eyes full of stars and his a slight smirk playing on his pale lips.

 

“I love you,” she said fiercely.

 

“Love you too, Malfoy,” he smirked wider.

 

Her eyes flattened, “Granger-Malfoy. I thought we’d decided.”

 

“ _We_ didn’t decide anything,” he peered down playfully at her.

 

“You’re right. I said that out of courtesy. _I decided_ ,” she grinned, “You just wanted me to change my last name so you could start saying out loud how much you loved yourself and everyone would think you were talking to me…”

 

Draco shrugged, “Not a bad idea… are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

 

She giggled and swatted his chest, “Prat.”

 

\-----

 

They had been honeymooning for all of 3 weeks already.

 

Hermione had insisted on not taking more than a week off but when Draco casually slipped it into conversation with not only the Minister of Magic but her boss as well… well… they had all but insisted she take the month.

 

She had worked so hard this past year and all her projects would be winding down. She hadn’t taken a day of holiday since she began her position and it was only right that she take the time to recuperate.

 

Hermione had wanted to skin him alive but instead she had graciously accepted.

 

She had indeed needed this…

 

They had spent the first two weeks travelling Europe, Draco showing her all the places she had not yet seen in the Wizarding world and Hermione walking him through the Louvre and Big Ben, the Parthenon and the Coliseum.

 

He had listened in rapture as she explained these parts of the ancient Muggle world and had asked questions intently. It reminded her so much of when she had learned of the Wizarding world, everything seen with fresh eyes.  

 

The past week they spent in the islands of the Mediterranean. They had a cliffside villa,  the wind rolling off the ocean and through their open doors and windows gave the air a distinct aroma of saltiness and freshness.

 

She stood over the sink, her silk robe tied loosely around her and her hair knotted up wildly. Her skin had never looked better, the constellations of freckles standing out even more starkly the darker her skin tanned.

 

In her hands was a small vial of teal potion, she rolled it around in her fingers.

 

Again.

 

And again.

 

She’d taken it everyday for the last few years. Every morning, right before brushing her teeth she took the sickly sweet potion.

 

But today… today she stopped to think on it.

 

She wasn’t sure why today was different… but it most certainly was. It was different because, she wasn’t sure she _wanted_ to take it.

 

She felt her new husband's arms wrap around her slender waist and his face bury into the space between her neck and shoulder.

 

“What are you doing with that? Something wrong?” his brows furrowed and he lifted his face to rest his chin on her shoulder.

 

“No,” she said quickly, “Maybe…”

 

She couldn’t take her eyes from the innocuous little vial.

 

“What is it? Does it seem off?”

 

“No… I just… I’m not sure I _want_ to take it…” she admitted with a clear voice.

 

“You don’t? As in… stop taking them forever?”

 

It was no secret that Draco had wanted to start a family. She had been rather surprised by his eagerness, to be honest. She had attributed it to the fact that _he_ didn’t have to spend 9 months pregnant just to shove out a tiny human and then have to make major career sacrifices.

 

She had been resolute about wanting to wait at least 2 years from their wedding. She’d be 25 then, still rather young by most people's standards to begin a family…

 

But here she was, 23, and seriously considering dumping this vial down the sink.

 

“Well… not forever,” she mused, “I assume there would be some time between children I would take them again.”

 

“Granger…” Draco couldn’t help but sound hopeful and she smiled.

 

Her delicate fingers uncorking the vial and bringing it to her lips. She paused, grinned and then tilted the vial over the sink, watching as the bluish-green liquid swirled down the drain.

 

“Does this mean what I think it does?” he tightened his grip on her waist and she giggled as he turned her so he could judge her expression for himself.

 

“I suppose it does,” she shrugged with a playful smile.

 

He lifted her effortlessly and carried her to their temporary marital bed. Depositing her effortlessly and crawling on top of her.

 

\-----

  


“Happy Valentine’s Day, Love,” Draco grinned across the intimate dinner table at a swanky new restaurant in London.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she grinned brightly.

 

“I know you said no gifts--”

 

“I got you something too!” she rushed excitedly.

 

“You did? It was your rule,” he looked at her lamely.

 

“I couldn’t resist…” she blushed.

 

“Here open mine first,” he pushed a long, slender jewelry box across the table and she rolled her eyes playfully before prying it open.

 

On a long, slender, barely visible chain was a rose gold, rune. It was hardly the most extravagant gift he had given her, but it was stunning in its simplicity.

 

“This is the rune for… Oh, Merlin, you’re making me think now…”

 

“Promise,” he said with a gulp, “I know these last six months, trying to have a baby have gotten to you at times... and when we lost… well, I thought about the rune of Fertility… but that might be a little _too_ much. So… this is just a promise, from me, to be there through all of this. In case you needed to have some reassurance. Even if it’s just the two of us for the rest of our days, arguing about nothing, me dog-earing pages and you leaving towels on the floor. We will make a beautiful life out that--”

 

“OKAY MY TURN!” she all but shouted, interrupting his sweet speech.

 

He jumped at her tone and his eyes went wide.

 

“Alright…”

 

She pushed a small ring sized box towards him and started shifting in her seat, a wide grin splitting her face.

 

He was giving her a nervous, suspicious look as he opened it and his brows fell low over his eyes.

 

He held up a small pink pacifier.

 

There was a long moment of silence, in which he stared at the seemingly innocent piece of plastic and rubber.

 

“Granger…” his voice cracking ever so slightly at the end.

 

“I’m farther along than last time,” she bit her lip nervously, “I’ve been casting the charm everyday and it glows brighter, everyday…” she started rambling.

 

“Granger…”

 

“I have a meeting with the healer on Tuesday! It’s still early but I wanted to tell you before then… we should be able to see the heartbeat--”

 

Draco was off his seat quicker than she could comprehend, shoving her chair back from the table and kneeling in front of her, his hands resting on her flat tummy and his eyes brimmed with tears.

 

“Have I told you I loved you yet?” he breathed.

 

“Not in the last few minutes,” she laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

“I love you,” he murmured into her curls.

 

\-----

 

There she was, 8 pounds even, 21 inches long. Her skin was so pink and her eyes looked like an iridescent metal with a beautiful shimmer.

 

Her hair was a dusting, barely there blonde wisps and her sweet pink mouth pursed in her sleep.

 

Draco was walking around with his shirt off, her skin pressed against his and a light blanket draped across them.

 

Everytime she made a whimper or a coo, he would shush her and rock her.

 

Hermione sat in her hospital bed, staring with lovestruck eyes at he pair of them.

 

Draco had been positive the baby had been a boy and so in some ways, Hermione had kind of just went along with it.

He made a good point… no girl had been to a Malfoy heir in decades.

 

But then again, there had never been a Muggleborn Witch to give birth to a Malfoy baby.

 

Gods, she was beautiful.

 

There was a slight rap of knuckles on the door and it creaked open, revealing the Malfoy grandparents.

 

Lucius’s face was a familiar cold glare, Hermione had come to expect no less. And Narcissa was wheeled in close behind him.

 

They had found a few magical remedies that had eased the progression of her disease. It wasn’t a cure, not by a longshot. But what had once been only a few years...seemed to stretch out before them. She still dealt with tremors and shakes but she had been given a gift they dare not take for granted.

 

“Mother,” Draco grinned, “As promised, I have wed and impregnated Granger at her earliest convenience. And due to that fact, please meet, Miss Ophelia Narcissa Granger-Malfoy.”

 

He gave an exasperated sigh after speaking her name and Hermione’s eyes narrowed at him.

 

Narcissa winced, “That’s quite the mouthful… Although incredibly thoughtful, have you thought about dropping me from her name? My, she’s beautiful.”

 

Narcissa’s arms had never been stronger as they held her granddaughter and stared at her with a sweet smile playing on her lips.

 

Hermione looked at the only grandparents her child would ever know and smiled. Somehow, in a more… extreme version, the Malfoy’s reminded her of Draco and herself.

 

Lucius was a bit cranky and hard to handle but he was putty in the hands of Narcissa.

 

Hermione tried to straighten in her hospital bed and felt her muscles give way. Draco rushed to her side and helped her get comfortable and Narcissa wasted no time in capitalizing.

 

“Luc? Take the baby won’t you? My arms…”

 

Lucius’ wide eyes missed nothing as grabbed for the baby and his mouth set into a firm line as Ophelia was settled into the crook of his elbow.

 

His brows crinkled and the lines around his lips became more apparent as he stared at his half-blooded granddaughter.

As Hermione settled into a new position, Draco rushed to his father’s side.

 

“I’ve got her--”

 

“It’s fine, actually,” Lucius’s face opened up in a speculative manner, “I think she might like me…”

 

Lucius regarded her curiously as the tiny baby curled deep into his embrace. He made his way to the vinyl covered chair in the corner by the window and watched the baby intently.

 

“Well, she is a baby…” Hermione prodded, “There’s no accounting for taste.”

 

Lucius eyes flickered up angerily but upon meeting the playful eyes of his family it seemed that a small wall broke away. He almost… smiled.

 

\-----

 

Ophelia was curled into Lucius’ side. Her platinum curls shielding her eyes.

 

Draco couldn’t look at anyone, his jaw tight and his eyes trained on the casket in front of him.

 

Hermione’s hands draped along her swollen belly leaned her head onto his shoulder, her arms snaked around his arm.

 

He didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t acknowledge anyone… but she knew that was ok.

 

Narcissa was gone.

 

She had seen her grandchild. Had seen Draco and Hermione happily married for 4 years.

 

She had passed peacefully and while no one could wish for this… she was out of pain.

  
Draco couldn’t wrap his mind around a world where Narcissa Malfoy didn’t exist and he had stared off into nothingness for far too long.

 

All the things he had done to save his mother… this was the end of the line. There had nothing else but to sit by her bedside as she passed.

  
  


\------

 

Ophelia blew the candles of her tiny but extravagant cake out, she had torn through the presents and sat with a slight pout on her lips.

 

Her younger brother was rolling around in the paper, kicking and slobbering on the remnants of her celebration.

 

“Everything ok, Fia?” Hermione asked her daughter, worry coloring her voice.

 

“Yea,” the pout still prevalent on her face.

 

“Did you have a nice birthday?”

 

A somber nod of her head.

 

“LOOK WHAT I FOUND!” Draco’s deep voice boomed from the other room. He entered, holding a horribly wrapped long, slender package. There was no disguising what it was and Hermione’s eyes narrowed into slits.

 

“Draco, I thought we talked about this,” she hissed quietly, while Ophelia jumped up and down, tugging at her curls and the veins on her neck pumping with adrenaline.

 

“We did…And while you know how vehemently I disagreed with you, but I still didn't get it for her. It was a gift from…” Draco pried the small card open, “WHYYYYY, Whadya know. It’s from Uncle Harry!”

 

Draco’s wide grin nearly split his face in half.

 

He handed the present to Ophelia who was tearing away at the wrappings faster than a snitch.

 

Draco was rubbing his hands together, watching his daughter with just as much excitement as the girl opening it.

 

“I know you told Harry to get it for her,” she said from behind him, causing him to jump.

 

“YEESH!” he flinched away from her with a narrowed glare, “Don’t sneak like that Granger…”

 

“I’m not stupid… I know you have something to do with this,” she accused.

 

“Whaaaat?” his hand laid flat on his chest, as if he were innocent.

 

“MUM! DAD! It’s the real Junior Stratus! Can you believe it?! Uncle Harry _knew_ how much I wanted this model! I can’t believe he actually got it for me… I have to Floo him! Oh, I’ve never been this happy in my life!!”

 

Ophelia was overjoyed, rambling on and on about the wonders of Harry Potter and Hermione grinned to herself.

 

Draco Malfoy had just about hung himself… She watched with excitement as his face turned to stone, turned to horrified.

 

“I’m going to be the greatest seeker in the world...I wonder if Uncle Harry will teach me?!”

 

_There it was._

 

The straw that broke the Hippogriffs back.

 

“Blasted it all! Of course that oaf didn’t buy that for you! Uncle Harry got you that stupid jumper that I had to claim as mine. Because I _knew_ she’d be cross... “ he gestured towards Hermione who was grinning like a cheshire cat, “But I’ll be damned if he gets all the glory AGAIN. I bought the Junior Stratus and I will be teaching you everything you need to know about it!”

 

Her cranky husband grumbled and flopped on the couch, a huff of air pushing an overgrown lock out of his eyes.

 

Hermione leaned into him, cradling Leo to her chest, “You. Are. SO. Busted.”

 

“Yea, yea, yea…” he mumbled.

 

\------

 

Hermione couldn’t help the nostalgia flooding her brain right now.

 

The sights and sounds of Kings Cross as a First Year were some of her most favorite memories. There was such excitement about the unknown.

 

Her children had been raised with magic all around them, but Hogwarts was the next frontier. The start of their independence and they would experience the world in a way she never had been able to.

 

A bit more simply… a little less hate.

 

Whenever she got resentful about their past and the loss of their childhood, she had to remind herself that everything had been for these children.

 

These children she couldn’t have imagined would ever exist. But here they were, born of love and everything good in the world. She had treasured all the moments when they were young and running through their home, leaving toys about and making messes in the kitchen.

 

It was time to say goodbye and her heart was in her throat.

 

“Fia, make sure he’s alright… make sure he doesn't sit alone on the train and watch out for him this year,” Hermione worried over her daughter, adjusting her Ravenclaw scarf on her shoulders soundly, “I’m sure he’ll be in the dungeons, I have a feeling that child was born a Puff… but still, just promise me?”

 

Fia rolled her eyes, “Yes, Mum…”

 

“And you!” she leaned down to draw her son into a deep embrace as Draco said goodbye to their daughter, “You remember that we love you. Listen to your teachers, _always_ and don’t go out past curfew… or to the Forbidden Forest… or get too close to the Black Lake! Try not to get detention, Filch can be such a troll… and write us every single chance you get.”

 

“Yes, mummmm,” Leo whined, shifting from foot to foot. He was ready to say goodbye… why wasn’t she?

 

“And son,” Draco kneeled down next to them, “Just remember you are the child of the Gryffindor Princess and the Prince of Slytherin… You’re Hogwarts royalty.”

 

Hermione’s hand swatted at her husband as she tried to keep from smiling.

 

“We love you,” Draco said and hugged his son fiercely.

 

“So much…” Hermione took a turn.

 

Leo waved over his shoulder and sprinted onto the train after his sister, steam enveloping the entire platform and Hermione settled her back into her husbands chest.

 

“I can’t believe our kids are gone…”

 

“I know… Do you know what this means?” he whispered into her curls.

 

“What?”

 

“We can have sex anywhere now…”

She laughed and threw an elbow into his ribs.

 

They stood their swaying as the last of the students boarded and even after the Hogwarts Express had left the station.

 

She was struck at the idea of telling First Year Hermione and Draco the people they would become, the people they would come to love and call family… they wouldn’t believe it. Sometimes she couldn’t either.

 

But she wouldn’t trade the man holding her hand for anything.

 

“We did good, Granger,” Draco smirked back at her as he led back towards the Apparition point.

 

“Real good, Malfoy,” she smiled back at him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much friends for joining me for this story! I've had such a wonderful time writing this and I hope this extra long epilogue gave all these characters some much needed closure!
> 
> Thanks again to SweetLilBullet for all your help with this story!
> 
> Until next time.


	24. Tori: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I don't know how you guys will feel about this but I'm so fiercely protective of Astoria that I needed you to hear her side! This is part one, expect part two... soonish. 
> 
> Gigantic thanks to HufflepuffMommy for Alpha/Beta'ing this!

Her neck craned and her eyes rolled deeply into the back of her head as the sound of her mother's blasted teaspoon clinked against porcelain again… and again. 

 

Why did they insist on tea every week when they discussed the same damn thing without fail?

 

Charity events. Trash gossip. Who’s wearing the same dress robes to another gala for the third time this year. 

 

It bored her. 

 

It shouldn’t, she thought to herself. These little tea parties, the innocent gossip, the inane charity events… she was born with it in her blood. She had been fluffed up and put on display for her parents friends since she could hold her head up, but somewhere, sometime ago, she realized that she just didn’t care as much as she should.

 

She wondered idly, as the spoon took it’s hundredth spin around the teacup, if the women who sat across from her felt the same way. Did they ever dream? Did they ever imagine a life where tea and champagne and linens weren’t the most pressing matters at hand? 

 

“So, Tori.” 

 

Astoria’s eyes flickered drowsily back at her guest. 

 

“Tell me, what’s new with you?” Narcissa said formally, a ghost of a sad smile around her lips. Something had been up with her recently. Astoria noticed the small shake of her teacup as she tried to set it back on the saucer and her eyes tightened slightly on the movement. 

 

“Oh, nothing much new,” Astoria smiled politely, straightening her back and crossing her ankles. 

 

Lies. 

 

There was much new, actually. Her and Blaise had been together for almost a full year and recently, in the middle of the night when the darkness spread over them like a cloak, he whispered in her ear sweet nothings about running away. About building a life of simple luxury in a small cottage on his family’s vineyard. They’d just watch the sunrise in oversized sweaters and drink champagne for every meal. 

 

It was… impossible, but sometimes, she let herself indulge. She’d tell him about how they could cook their own breakfast and dance barefoot on the balcony. In their minds they had this beautiful, epic love story. Star Crossed lovers who fell into bed together and forgot everything else that mattered. 

 

She should never have been so stupid.

 

Should have kept it at midnight trysts and stolen kisses. 

 

But then, she’d gone and fallen in love with the oaf. He was crass and annoying, he spoke whatever fleeting thought crossed his mind and laughed at his own jokes. He was handsy too… much too much for a man of his upbringing. He was always groping her lovingly.  There was never a missed opportunity where he didn’t grab a fistful of her bum or wrap her in his long, sculpted arms as she tried to sneak out in the mornings. 

 

“Someone as young and beautiful as you? Surely that can’t be true… How have you and Draco been getting along?”

 

Astoria sucked a deep breath in through her nose and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 

 

“Well enough,” she smiled tightly. 

 

“He should be home soon. I thought he’d be back already, but perhaps he’s had a hiccup overseas… Do you spend much time together?”

 

“We try,” she lied easily and took a small sip of her tea. 

 

Draco was… fine, she thought to herself. She knew him well enough, having been dragged out during dinner parties together for two decades. He never paid her much mind growing up, usually spending his time with the Pureblood boys. 

 

She could still remember being sat down in the Greengrass drawing room at the tender age of 12. She remembered feeling wildly nervous as she noticed the firm set to Draco’s mouth and how he wouldn’t even look at her. He couldn’t have been more than 13 or 14 but he looked, in that moment, like a cold hearted man. 

 

They explained the ceremony and the ritual that would bind their contract and the two patriarchs of the family slammed their palms together in a handshake so loud that it sounded like a thunder clap. 

 

They signed the scroll in front of a Magistar, everyone except Astoria. Apparently, no one needed her permission to sign away her life and the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

 

Draco’s shaking hand held the quill just over the the parchment and he hesitated for the briefest of moments before Lucius’ hand found his shoulder and squeezed firmly. 

 

And just like that, with a few flicks of his wrist, the paper glowed and then dulled to its original color. 

 

She was betrothed. 

 

She’d then been forced to suffer the humiliation of having her first kiss witnessed by both of their parents and a magistar. It was a short lived, tight lipped kind of kiss, but it was still her first. 

 

Another piece of her taken against her will and given to someone she didn’t agree to. 

 

She stared at Narcissa now and thought of how happy she’d been that day. How she’d wrapped Astoria in her arms and called her daughter...

 

“Well, if you’re amenable, I think it’s time we move forward with a date for your wedding,” Narcissa said confidently, causing a gulp of tea to hit the back of Astoria’s throat so violently it caused her to start hacking and sputtering. 

 

Her mother’s hand came up to pat at her back and rubbed it lovingly. 

 

“Tori, dear… are you quite alright?”

 

“Quite,” she gasped for breath and took a moment to calm herself. “Mrs. Malfoy… don’t you think that’s rather soon? I’m barely out of school, we have a little time...”

 

Astoria straightened her spine and felt her breath coming too quickly. Her thoughts a jumbled mess that she couldn’t make sense of. 

 

“Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you ladies,” that tremor again, “The Muggles have found a diagnosis. You know I haven’t been feeling-” she took a sharp breath in and her blue eyes found Astorias, “-myself. I have something called ALS. It’s… well, it’s complicated.”

 

“What is your treatment like? How long until--” 

 

Cora Greengrass was cut off by Narcissa’s raised hand and suddenly the feeling in the air shifted abruptly. 

 

“There is no cure. It’s… it’s terminal, I’m afraid. I have a few magical healers working on it, but our best bet is to stall the degenerative nature of the disease for a few years. I might be able to see a grandchild or two, if I’m lucky… which I rarely am,” she said bitterly “To put it bluntly, I’m dying, ladies.”

 

“Cissy…” Cora reached her slender hand out and squeezed her friends fingers. 

 

“Tori, I know that this arranged marriage isn’t what you asked for out of your life. But Draco, he’s a good man,” she raised her chin proudly, “He didn’t take the easy way out like he could have. He’s strong and intelligent, hardworking. He’ll make you a fine husband and one that will make you and your family proud. He’ll give you babies and he will love those babies more than anything.”

 

Narcissa’s eyes welled with tears and Astoria felt her heart swell and shatter simultaneously. 

 

“I just… we’re so young,” Astoria swallowed thickly. 

 

“Youth is a luxury quickly lost, my girl,” Narcissa’s chin twitched. 

 

“Of course, Cissy. A date… when?” Her mother insisted with bright eyes and Astoria felt her heart wrench. 

 

“I was thinking August 12th?”

 

_ So soon.  _

 

“Perfect! Let’s talk venue…”

 

They kept talking. Kept planning. Kept shattering her dreams for a simple future with Blaise… and they didn’t even care. Hell, they didn’t even notice. 

 

They discussed dress shapes and linen colors. Champagne choices and possible bridesmaids… they never talked about the marriage. Never discussed what it would be like for her to disappear in the Malfoy line.

 

Everything she’d ever accomplished under the name of Astoria Greengrass, all those O.W.L.S., all those N.E.W.T.S… gone. She’d be Astoria Malfoy; Queen of the Purebloods and wife to Draco Malfoy. 

 

* * *

 

The elevator opened into Blaise’s lavish penthouse and she sighed in anticipatory exhaustion. Each step felt heavy with lead and sadness that she couldn’t will away. 

 

“Babe?” 

 

Why did he have to sound so bloody chipper. 

 

“I’m here,” she called back, forlornly. 

 

“Ah, there she is,” he rounded the corner, his sweats hanging low on his hips and his thin t-shirt loose on his lean frame. 

 

He froze mid step as his eyes fell on her, tear stained cheeks and messy hair. “What’s wrong?”

 

She shook her head sadly, not wanting to will the words out into the universe. 

 

“Something’s up. Spill.”

 

She sucked her cheek in through her teeth and let out the breath she’d been holding. 

 

“It’s complicated.”

 

“Whatever it is, it can’t be as dramatic as you seem to be making it--”

 

“They set the date,” she spat, a knot forming in her throat that she desperately wanted to vanish. 

 

A long beat of silence that felt like it stretched too long, then the crash. 

 

“What?!” he took an angry step forward and she flinched, feeling the magic spike in the air around them. “You can’t get married you’re 19 years old… you’ve barely--”

 

“I know,” she sighed, “it’s complicated.”

 

“What does Draco have to say about this? I thought he hadn’t come home yet?” 

 

Blaise’s eyes were wild and while Astoria desperately wanted to help calm him… she didn’t feel calm herself, not in the slightest. 

 

“He wasn’t there. I doubt he’ll be overjoyed… we have barely exchanged more than a few sentences since the war,” she said heavily. 

 

“We are gonna figure this out, Tori. I promise,” his long arms wrapped around her shoulders and cocooned her in his embrace.

 

Everything else faded for a moment. 

 

This space created a vacuum from the chaos of her mind. She was safe here. 

* * *

 

Draco returned. 

 

He stormed into Blaise’s bedroom in a fury and Blaise had barely a moment to throw his duvet over Astorias naked breasts and stomach. 

 

“What the fuck, Mal--”

 

“Save it, Zabini. We’ve got work to do,” Draco slashed his wand through the air and all of Blaises drapes ripped open, letting the morning sun fill the room and causing her to wince and groan. 

 

“I take it you’ve heard?” 

 

She gripped the duvet close to her and she propped up on her elbow and turned over her shoulder to face him. Her Fiancee. 

 

“Yea, it’s fucking bullshit. How could you agree to this?!” he accused, his lip turning up into a sneer. 

 

“Watch it, Malfoy,” Blaise warned. 

 

“How could  _ I _ agree? I don’t seem to remember signing that betrothal contract all those years ago, Draco Malfoy.  _ You _ did that.”

 

“Fucking hell, I will forever be paying for the sins of my bloody childhood,” he rubbed his face with his palms aggressively, “You don’t want to marry me, Astoria.”

 

“Yea, obviously, Draco,” she said with a mocking sneer. “But, I don’t see much choice in the matter.”

 

Draco grinned and held up a scroll triumphantly. 

 

“Get dressed. We’ve got some work to do.”

* * *

 

  
  


They quickly relocated to Malfoy Manor and had several large tomes spread out on a long table. 

 

Astoria was having tea but the boys had quickly succumbed to Firewhisky. 

 

“I still don’t get why you don’t both just say no… just  _ don’t get married. _ ”

 

“It’s not that simple,” Draco murmured out of the side of his mouth, before licking his thumb and turning another page. 

 

“Well, fucking make it simple!” Blaise slammed a book shut.

 

“What do you think I’m doing here? Putting on a giant charade so I can marry your girl at the end of this? I want out of this as bad as both of you,” he growled and Astoria flinched. 

 

Merlin, he hated her. 

 

There had been a time when Astoria used to fantasize about their lives together. They’d been young and he was confident and handsome, the Prince of Slytherin. 

 

She’d adored his cocky strut and the way he smirked out of the corner of his mouth. But the suffocating nature of his distaste for her had lessened her feelings for him over time. Soon, their betrothal was something she violently ignored. 

 

“From what I’ve found, the owners of your trust are able to amend our contract,” Astoria said, knowing this was common knowledge, “Your trust was originally set up by?”

 

“Both sets of grandparents,” Draco didn’t lift his gaze from his book, “And they are all dead.”

 

“I wonder if there is a way to sidestep this and have it be the Head of House? Would Lucius change the contract?”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Blaise mumbled, “Says clearly that it has to be the original owners of the trust. But wait, there are some stipulations here…” He unscrolled the parchment farther and squinted at the legal jargon there, “Merlins tit! How’d you miss this Draco? There is an out right here!”

 

“What?!” both Astoria and Draco shot out of their seats and stood behind Blaise. Her heart was racing, hope bubbling up in her chest. 

 

“Tori has to be a virgin… I can assure you, mate, she is not,” he grinned happily up at them and her eyes flicked nervously to Draco, a wave of tension settling in on his shoulders as he cracked his neck. 

 

“Don’t worry about that clause. Keep looking,” he returned to his seat and Astoria thought surely Blaise would be able to hear her heart beating. 

 

“What?! Don’t worry about that clause? This could be your way out! It negates the entire fucking contract!” Blaise said incredulously. 

 

“No,” Draco replied with gritted teeth, “It doesn’t.” 

 

“You are such a fucking prick, Malf--”

 

“Are you gonna take this one, Astoria?” Draco finally looked at her. 

 

“Just stop, Blaise,” she said firmly and retook her seat. 

 

“Ok, someone tell me what the fuck is going on…” more silence, “Tori?”

 

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, “It doesn’t say I have to be a virgin on our wedding day, Blaise. It says I need to be presented intact and that Draco must be the one to… well, you know.” 

 

“Yea? And? You didn’t lose your virginity to Draco Malf--” Her face must have given her away. She flinched or blinked or...something. But he froze, the deep beautiful tones of his skin paling, “That’s not possible… Draco you lost your virginity to Bulstrode. That’s… no that’s not possible.”

 

Blaise was shaking his head violently, refusing to admit that what he was piecing together was true. 

 

“It’s nothing like that, mate. We didn’t...date or anything. It was just one night and just one time…”

 

“Why?” 

 

Blaise’s teeth were so tight it looked like it was holding razor blades between them. 

 

“It was just a stupid fling…” she said nervously, “It was my fault and I was the one who came onto him. It also allowed me some personal freedom, which I thank him for. Once I had lost my virginity to him, I wasn’t bound to wait for a wedding that may never come.”

 

That night had been the one that made her give up on any type of romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy. 

 

It had changed her irreparably.

 

He wasn’t cruel or cold… he was quite tender actually, and very thoughtful, but he didn’t love her. Would never love her. And it was obvious in the way he didn’t look at her for longer than a blink; the way he offered her to stay but could tell he didn’t want her to. 

 

She’d watched him drink with his friends all night. She’d seen the way he stumbled down the boys corridor. She’d waited a few minutes before she followed him… and found him face up, still clothed on his bed, just his legs sticking out from the drapes around his four poster. 

 

She’d whispered his name… then again a bit louder and he stirred. 

 

She slid the drapes back and pressed her knee in the space next to him and then lifted her left leg so that he straddled his lap and placed her shaking hands on his chest. 

 

The rest was clumsy and drunken. She wasn’t even sure they’d done it properly since everything hurt and she thought it was supposed to last longer. It was supposed to be… sexy, right? 

 

It hadn’t been sexy. 

 

“You fucked her?” Blaise stood angrily, pushing his leather bound book across the table at his friend, “You didn’t think it’s something you ought to tell me these last 12 months?! You fucking dick,” he spat. 

 

Malfoy’s eyes flitted to the back of his skull and he rubbed at his temples. 

 

“Tori, can you handle this please?!” Draco look physically pained. 

 

“Oh, it’s  _ Tori _ now…” Blaise sneered. 

 

“Babe, it’s not, it’s not like that! You knew I wasn’t a virgin when we met, why are you so upset about this?!”

 

“I can’t even look at you,” Blaise spat, “You shagged my best mate and never thought to bloody mention it?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d care!” she argued, her voice rising an octave.

 

“I don’t give a shit that you slept with Malfoy,” he sneered, his lips drawing up into a growl, “But I do care that for the last twelve months, you knew you slept with my best mate, the man you were going to eventually marry, and didn’t mention it.” 

 

Blaise jaw clenched and he let out a breath like it was his last. 

 

“Bl--” she started before she was abruptly cut off. 

 

“I know, right? My fault for getting involved…,” his eye twitched nastily, “Hope you both will be very happy together.” 

 

Blaise snatched his cloak from the back of the chair and stormed from the library, leaving the air sour in his wake. 

 

It was silent for too long. Draco was still buried in his book, acting as though nothing had changed.

 

“You set me up to have to tell him,” Astoria snapped. 

 

Draco scoffed with one arched brow, “Excuse me?” 

 

Still, he didn’t give her even the respect of eye contact. 

 

“You heard me! Why did you say it like that?!” her palms slammed against the surface of the table and finally his icy eyes found hers. 

 

“Was there some other way you would have preferred me to say that it doesn’t matter that you’ve slept around before our marital bed? You were the one that insisted he not be told. Blaise wouldn’t have given a knut if you told him a year ago.”

 

He was right but she hated it so she went back on the attack, “Why this sudden change to altar our contract? Why did you wait until less than two months before?!”

 

He rubbed his hands over his face in exhaustion and snagged his tumblr of Firewhisky, downing it one single gulp. 

 

“I’ve met someone,” he admitted., “Well, re-met.”

 

“Re-met?”

 

“Someone from school,” he said with a bored drawl. 

 

“You fell in love? So what?” she laughed bitterly, “Now that it directly affects you and your love life, you give a shit? Let’s just fucking call this, Draco. I know you want your inheritance, but it’s not worth it. I’m done. Done with all of this.” 

 

She marched towards the door and stopped when she heard his chair scratch against the floor. 

 

“Dammit, just wait! TORI!” 

 

She paused but didn’t turn.

“My mom’s treatments… they aren’t cheap. We need round the clock care. Most of our Gringotts accounts have been gutted by the Ministry and anyone else with an empty pocket that promises my family’s rehabilitation. We’re fine, we aren’t going destitute by any means… but my mother’s care will suffer. We might have to downsize. She’ll be mortified and people will find out about her diagnosis… I can’t have that for her. I don’t give two shits about this house or my Father… but Mother doesn’t deserve that.”

 

Astoria chewed on her cheek. Everything he said was true… and she loved Cissy. Loved her dearly. 

 

“So what do you want me to do?” she said with a heavy sigh. 

 

“Help me. Help me figure out how we can both get out of this without rings on our fingers and I can keep my mother's last few years in this wretched world be not so miserable.”

“Okay, Draco. For Cissy.” 

 

She agreed with a curt nod. 

* * *

 

It didn’t work. 

 

They found nothing. There was no loophole. No back door. 

 

Blaise and her fought.

 

It was nasty and earth shattering. At one point she may have called him an entitled, womanizing asshole. None of which she thought to be true. 

 

Finding out she had slept with Draco had been the catalyst that sparked the beginning of the end. 

 

It had been over a week since they last spoke and she tried to ignore the pain that constantly threatened to shatter her heart. 

 

She should have never fallen in love with him. Should have never let him so close… there was no way for it to end in anything other than heartache.

* * *

 

  
  


Astoria wasn’t one to wear her heartache on her sleeve. She tucked it away neatly and slid her perfectly smooth blonde hair over her shoulder. She touched up her makeup in the mirror and Apparated to Diagon Alley. 

 

She had talked to Draco about meeting for a late lunch. They were running out of time; running out of hope that they would get everything they wanted. The further along the wedding plans got, the more invested their mothers got in the planning, the less it seemed they would make it out alive. 

 

He was working out of the Ministry and she began her short walk towards the visitors entrance. It started sprinkling and she ignored it, but as the rain picked up, she cast her umbrella charm.

 

“Erm, Miss Greengrass! ASTORIA!” she stopped mid step and turned over her shoulder with a curious expression. 

 

Her jaw went nearly slack. 

 

“Hello! I know we haven’t formally met,” Harry Potter stood wiping his hands on his wrinkled trousers and then extended that same dirty paw out to her. 

 

How could such a disheveled man be responsible for the fall of the world's darkest wizard?

 

“Oh, Mister Potter--”

 

“Harry, please,” he grinned at her. 

 

“Harry,” she obliged with a polite smile, “As I was about to say, there are no introductions necessary.”

 

“We were just here with Draco! He speaks so highly of you and your impending nuptials. You must be getting excited.” 

 

Now, that was surprising. He was talking about their wedding?

 

“Was he? I was just on my way to meet him,” she said formally, always on display and well trained. “Perhaps he forgot about our appointment.”

 

“Appointment?” Astoria startled, noticing Weasley for the first time as he chimed in with a laugh, crumbs falling from his mouth. The buffoon didn’t even bother to pause eating his lunch, let alone stand with a lady present and her brows crinkled at his poor manners, “What an odd thing to call lunch with your fiance,” he continued to chuckle to himself. 

 

“Semantics,” Astoria said with a flat stare. “Anyway, it was lovely to finally meet you, Harry.”

 

“Same to you. We are looking forward to your big day and I’ll make sure Ron gets proper dress robes,” Harry winked at her and she bristled. Merlin, these two were awful casual with her. How close were they to Draco?

 

“I should run and find Draco,” she gave them a polite but false smile.

 

“He just left a few minutes ago!” Ron shouted after her and she forced a smile at him to let him know that she heard. 

 

The street wasn’t busy but the lunch crowd of neighboring businesses hadn’t thinned yet. 

 

She couldn’t get over that Harry Potter had stopped her… that he had stopped her because Draco had been talking about their wedding. That he had been talking about  _ her. _

 

What was he playing at? Had he given up finding a way out? 

 

“MONEY! It’s always money with you!” 

 

She heard a shrill voice echo against the brick alley she was passing and her eyes drifted down. She stopped abruptly at the sight of Draco Malfoy arguing with… was that… Hermione Granger?

 

Astoria took a step back and pressed her shoulder against the brick wall, craning her neck and turning her ear closer to the altercation. 

 

“It’s not what you think--” he growled at her. 

 

“You remember when you told me to drop my prejudices? I did! I trusted you! You’ve just proved everything I thought about you to be true.” 

 

The mystery girl was Hermione Granger?

She didn’t remember the Granger girl being quite so pretty. She had a natural beauty with dainty lines to her face and had certainly learned to manage that mane. She was… lovely.

 

It pained Astoria in an unexpected way. 

“Granger! Please!”

 

Draco appeared then and Astorias breath fell out of her mouth as he reached for Grangers hand, trying to stop her. 

 

Hermione turned then and her eyes fell on Astoria, wide eyed and caught red handed at eavesdropping. Their eyes were trapped in a battle of wills, neither one blinking. 

 

“Malfoy,” Hermione said tightly. “Your Fiancee is here to see you,” she ripped her hand from his and Astoria swallowed, raising her chin. 

“Hermione Granger, as it were,” Astoria said, trying to sound confident. Merlin, she was sure she sounded like a fool. 

“Astoria,” Hermione nodded in greeting.

“Are you done here?” Astoria wasn’t sure what to do, should she leave them? How much did the girl know? She tried to keep her composure; to keep control of the confrontation. 

“Quite,” Hermione replied in a clipped tone and looked right at Draco as she spoke, who was frozen between the two witches, eyes only on  _ his _ witch, on Hermione. “He’s all yours.”

Draco stared at her curls bouncing away from the pair of them before turning with a defeated hunch to his shoulders. 

“Sorry… I, uh, I ate with some associates but why don’t we go grab some tea,” he said distractedly. 

“That’s her? Really? Hermione Granger?” 

Astoria couldn’t name the feelings coursing through her. She wasn’t in love with Draco Malfoy but she still felt… protective. He was still her fiancee, even if it wasn’t real… even if she and Blaise had been together this entire year. 

She felt… jealous. That was the most overwhelming emotion. Not jealous that they were together or that he loved her. No, she felt jealous that Astoria was, yet again, not good enough. 

“Do you want tea?” Draco said absently, she wasn’t even sure he saw her there. She could have been anyone. 

“No,” she shook her head simply and turned the way she had come, leaving Draco in the rain with his thoughts.

* * *

 

Tori leaned over the extravagant railing of the balcony on the terrace of her mother's sitting room. 

She had penned a few notes to Blaise but they never made it off the property. Her stubbornness was going to cost her Blaise, as if simply being a Pureblood hadn’t already. She wondered what he was up to; if he’d already fallen into bed with another witch or if his mother had finally convinced him to run away for a few weeks to their place in Italy.

Maybe he’d never fallen in love with her the way she had with him; maybe it was all just a relationship of convenience. 

She picked at her cuticles, a nasty habit that her mother would often send a small pinching hex at her fingers for when she was caught as a child. 

Growing up, people envied them.

The Greengrasses. 

The Pureblood Elites, in general. Not necessarily because of their blood status; no that really only seemed to matter to those in that circle. But they were rich and cultured; they went to fancy parties and her closet was stuffed with beautiful dresses she would wear only once. They had old money and new money and vacationed all over the world. 

But she knew it for what it was, even at a young age. She was property. Even to a loving mother and father, she was their property. She was a trinket to be showed off at dinner parties, a doll to dress up and her final act, a gift to be given to the Malfoys. 

She’d be trussed up and paraded out in front of the Wizarding High Society and simply, given away. Like a bottle of wine or box of chocolates. 

“Astoria? I didn’t know you were out here sweetheart,” her mother's kind voice interrupted her thoughts and she straightened her spine before she could be reprimanded, out of habit. 

“Hello, Mother.”

“How was your lunch with Draco?”

“Fine,” she lied easily.

“Do you think you might be starting to develop feelings for the boy?” Cora said hopefully. 

Astoria gave a long blink as she looked out over the backside of the property. Leaving her mother's question unanswered. 

A moment of heavy silence passed. 

“As you know, your father and I had an arranged marriage. If you… wanted to talk to me about it, you could.” 

Astoria looked at her mother for a long moment, the elegant lines of her face and her bright green eyes. She had the same golden blonde hair but their smiles were different. 

“Did you ever want anything more than this?” Astoria finally blurted. 

“More than what?”

“More than…  _ this. _ Did you ever love anyone? Have dreams? Want a career?”

Cora’s face tilted and sadness prickled at her eyes. 

“Oh, Astoria… at my age, it’s dangerous to play the ‘what if’ game. There are a million outcomes to those questions, and yes, there have been times I’ve let my mind wander down those paths briefly. But,  _ this _ , as you so disdainfully put it, gave me my two beautiful girls, a beautiful home, and your father of course. I have been given more out of life than I ever thought to dream for. ”

“Did you love him? When you got married?”

Astoria had never asked before, never thought to.

Cora shifted uncomfortably. 

“No,” she said simply. “But, I didn’t expect to, either.”

“Do you love him now?”

Cora seemed to think for a moment, smiling to herself, she seemed to be trying to decide if she should be truthful in her answer. 

“I wonder what you think love looks like,” she mused. “It changes overtime. It’s not a constant, endless passion, and breathless kisses. Sometimes love looks like your husband waking up in the middle of the night to tend to his daughters so you might get some sleep; it’s him staying out of a war we had no business in. Sometimes, it looks like him dismissing the elves and bringing me soup when I had that awful case of Black Cat Flu… he sat up with me and even learned to braid my hair so I wouldn’t get sick in it,” she smiled at the memory. “Falling in love with your father started as a mutual respect and grew into friendship. I do love your father and it has been the honor of my life to do so, but if you are only imagining young love in its early stages? Then no, I never loved your father like that. But, I wouldn’t trade the love we have for that, never in a million years. This is the love that lasts.”

Her mother’s words moved her and stilled her heart. 

“And you think I can have that kind of love… with Draco?”

“Draco is a fine boy, very much like your father and very little like his own. You can’t expect to have this relationship over night. It will take time and effort. I’ve always said that trust is hard to earn and too easily lost, the same with love of all varieties.” Cora kissed her daughter on the forehead and smiled at her. “You are worthy of love, and if you decide not to go through with this marriage, I will always support you; will always love you. If you want more than…  _ this _ , more than what I have? Then life is yours to take. You know you lose your trust and Draco will lose his, and that’s not a punishment, dear, it’s just magical law. I can’t tell you if it’s worth it, because I never chose it. But if it’s what you want…”

Astoria felt the tears slide down her cheeks and she hugged her mother. 

She felt guilty… who was she to ask for more than all of this?

* * *

 

It was three weeks until the wedding date. Nothing stopped moving, nothing changed. She felt at the middle of this giant whirlpool with everything swirling madly around her… She was stationary. 

“Astoria, look who I found.”It was her sister, Daphne, escorting Draco and his Mother in. Narcissa looked more weary, leaning heavily onto a shaking cane with a snake's head at the handle and onto her son. 

Draco looked stoic, expressionless and Narcissa, full of joy. 

Daphne and Narcissa were here for her final dress fitting, but she was surprised to see Draco there as well. 

“Oh, Draco, I didn’t realized you’d be joining us.”

“I’m not. Just escorting mother and hoping I might have a word with you in private, if you’re available?”

“I am,” she gave him a small smile. “The Gardens?”

He tightened his lips and gave her a nod,then helped his mother into a chair in the sitting room where she’d be displaying her wedding gown. 

Draco offered his elbow next to Astoria and she stared at for a moment before linking her arm with his. They didn’t often touch and it felt stiff and unnatural. 

They made their way through the opening arch and towards a bench, neither one speaking. She was in a sundress that fell just under her knees had a full circle skirt. It was blooming with peach colored peonies and had a wide scallop neck. It was considered casual and she thought of how much she envied the girls who threw on jeans and a t-shirt some days. 

“Something you wanted to discuss?” She said as she stared down at her lap and picked at an invisible thread. 

“We haven’t really… talked about all of this in the last few weeks. Are you still-,” he sighed deeply. “Are you still seeing Blaise? Are you still planning to go through with this? Whatever we decide, I just want to be on the same page. We can call this off now, if that’s what you want.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” she asked with concerned eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do. I love Cissy like a second mother. If you had asked me in the Spring, I would have said I’d do anything to make her happy and ensure she lived a happy and comfortable life.”

“And now?”

“Well, my answer is the same… but it’s a bit different in reality versus the abstract,” she mused. “Blaise and I haven’t spoken in a few weeks. We got in a nasty row about you and I and I think this is just a little too much for him. Not that I blame him. Are you still seeing… her?”

Astoria didn’t feel right saying her name. 

“No,” he supplied quickly. 

“Do you want to marry me?” she asked quietly. 

Draco’s eyes closed and he looked like he was grieving. “I am in love with someone else. It doesn’t seem fair to you, doesn’t seem fair to ask you to--”

She raised her hand to stop him. “I’m not asking if you love me or even particularly like me. Is this what you want? This life with a high society wife and all the accoutrements that go with it? I meant what I said, I’d do anything for Cissy. But,” she gulped, “I am not and refuse to be like my Mother’s China.”

“What--” he tried to cut her off but she continued quickly. 

“I will not just sit in your Manor and brought out for company to oogle over. I want a life, Draco. I want children and happiness and even hard times, but I want them with a partner. I understand you love her, but if you can’t let her go, then you need to let me go. If you can say goodbye to her, I’ll put on that ridiculous dress and promise myself to you, we have little ways of leaving our lives in tact anyway. If you can’t? Let’s go and tell them now before it gets any further.”

She wasn’t sure what answer she hoped for as she watched him chew over his thoughts. 

He gave her a tight sad smile and stood, leaving his suit jacket unbuttoned and reached into an inner pocket. He kneeled in the gravel and dirt in front of the bench she was seated on and her eyes got wide and she started shaking. 

This was it. The moment that decided all the rest. 

“Astoria Greengrass, will you marry me?” 

He opened the box and inside was a beautiful emerald cut diamond ring. 

She nodded and returned his sad smile as he slid the ring on her left hand.

* * *

 

The Hawthorne was the newest establishment in Wizarding London. It’s clientele were young, working witches and wizards with a little extra money to burn and who enjoyed grabbing drinks after work, without children to rush home to tend to. 

She sat up at the bar in a black cocktail dress that hugged every inch of her snuggly and sipped too quickly on the martini she had ordered. 

“There she is,” his familiar greeting rumbled and she smiled at her drink and turned to greet him. 

Merlin, he was so handsome. 

“Blaise,” she smiled brightly and then felt it wane… this wasn’t a happy visit. 

He ordered a drink and they didn’t speak as the bartender poured it. 

“Keep ‘em coming, mate,” Blaise nodded at the man. “I have a feeling I’ll need them.”

Astoria’s heart was racing. It’d been almost a month since their fight. Since she’d stormed out of his flat and both of them had refused to speak to each other. 

“Nice ring,” Blaise said lamely and winced as the first of his drink hit his throat and Astoria’s right hand shot over to cover it. Why did she fucking wear it? “It’s ok,” he gave her a guarded smile. “I figured it out when I got my invitation in the mail. I’m not stupid. I knew you two were betrothed when we started… our fling.”

_ Fling.  _

Her mind scattered. 

He hadn’t loved her the way she loved him. Hadn’t loved her in the forever kind of ways. 

“Right,” she breathed and finished her martini. “I didn’t realize you got an invitation. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you… Mother must have just assumed.”

“It didn’t hurt me,” he leveled her with an easy glance and a shrug; her heart shattered. 

Was she so forgettable? So worthless? 

“Are you coming then? I keep hearing it’s going to be the social event of the season,” she was fighting tears but she’d be fucking damned if Blaise watched her cry over an empty martini glass and in this dress. 

“I think I’ll have to miss it. Hope you can understand,” his eyes tight with a patronizing air, “I have a date,” he slid the empty glass towards the bartender in exchange for another. 

“Why did you come here?” her jaw clenched so tight the words barely escaped. 

“Why did you ask me? It’s been a month, Tori.” 

His facade slipped briefly.

“You didn’t try to reach me either, Blaise.”

“Yea, yea, tit for tat. We’ve both hurt each other, it would seem. So let’s just cut our losses, shall we? There’s nothing I would want more than just to forget this entire thing between us.”

A knife in her gut. 

She needed to get out of this place and  _ now _ or she would be sobbing in a puddle of her tears in a moment's time. 

“Got it. Thanks for the memories, Blaise,” she stood effortlessly, her favorite black dress feeling suffocating all of a sudden. 

She stormed off and ignored the sound of his voice calling her name behind her.

* * *

 

Her dress was stunning. 

She might not be particularly looking forward to her wedding day, or marriage for that matter, but she was definitely looking forward to wearing this dress. 

The perfectly tailored satin hugged her body until it flared delicately above her knees. It’s simplicity was what she had loved the most about it; the neckline was a thick band of lace and instead of a traditional veil, a long cape of matching satin fell from the intricate lace and cascaded all around her. 

Daphne kept fussing over it, smoothing her dress, tucking a strand of hair… 

Daphne married last year to some fellow from Durmstrang, another arranged marriage. She seemed to get along with Andrei. He was handsome and exactly the type of man Daph always drooled over; dark eyes and huge, broad shoulders. Most importantly, he stared at Daphne as though she was the House Cup, the greatest prize he could have ever imagined. He doted on her and Astoria suspected, even after their short courtship, that they loved each other passionately. 

It made her envious because as much as she kept trying to will it into existence, she doubted very much that was in her future. 

“You’re doing too much, Daph. Just sit for a minute,” Astoria sighed as her older sister used her wand to try and smooth out a non-existent wrinkle on her train,. “Have you seen Draco? How is he?”

Daphne gulped and ignored the question. 

“Daph…” Astoria warned in a low voice. 

“He’s… well, he’s kinda drunk, Tor. I guess Theo took some girl home from the bar last night. I’m not sure, I couldn’t catch the entire altercation. I asked Theo about it and he couldn’t figure out why it upset Draco as much as it did.”

Astoria paled, watching her reflection as her breathing slowed. 

“Oh…” she gave a forced chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, it’s like a rule that the groom gets a bit tossed on his wedding day. How about I grab you some champagne so you can catch up?”

Daphne, with her long chestnut hair appeared over her shoulder and squeezed her upper arms, smiling at her baby sister. 

“Thanks, Daph. I think that might help.”

Daphne disappeared out the door and left Astoria in the giant dressing room alone. 

Downstairs, three hundred guests from all over the world were gathering to watch the pre-arranged nuptials of Draco and herself. 

Her breath started growing more and more shallow, her perfectly tailored dress now feeling far too tight. 

Maybe this was all a mistake. Draco was never going to get over that girl.

* * *

 

 

They portkey had whisked them away to a Wizarding hotel in Paris. 

The view took her breath away. 

It was the most romantic place she’d ever been in and she couldn’t stop thinking of someone else… couldn’t stop thinking of Hermione Granger. 

Draco’s eyes had been almost glazed over during the ceremony and their first kiss might as well have been with her mother it was so chaste. 

During the reception she smiled at their guests, as Draco poured Firewhisky and champagne down his throat. 

They danced once and she knew that no one watching would ever think that Draco and Astoria Malfoy loved each other. There was no love lost, no facade. This wedding was a giant show for the Prophet and a reason for the wealthy and elite to stuff their faces and drink themselves into oblivion. 

They were the first to leave, in a shower of wand flares and applause. 

Merlin, they must have looked ridiculous. Tight smiles and holding hands awkwardly. She hoped it didn’t photograph as horrible as it felt. 

The portkey glowed and that’s how she found herself on this balcony, overlooking the glowing Eiffel Tower… alone. She could hear Draco, her husband, pouring himself another drink. 

He joined her finally on the terrace and her heart started racing. This wasn’t their first tryst but it still felt like it. 

He held a rocks glass of Firewhisky out to her and she took it begrudgingly. 

Blaise would have known she wanted Champagne or wine or hell, vodka, but, she still took the Firewhisky and let the pain sober her as it scorched her throat. 

“So…” Draco started, his voice hazy and deep. 

“Right…” she continued. 

They had to have sex. 

It was part of the fucking contract. Consummating their marriage was the final tick on the list, well not including the long list of ways she could offend her husband and/ or Mother in Law that she needed to tread carefully around. 

“Should I--” he started and she made a face. “What?!”

“Can we just get really drunk? Is that okay?”

“Already there, wife,” he chuckled and she felt a little ember in her belly grow and she smiled into her glass before downing it and lifting it for a refill.

* * *

 

She was drunk. Blissfully so, but not drunk enough to ignore the way he hands shook as he worked the zipper on her dress. 

No, she wasn’t drunk enough to forget the way his face crumpled when he looked down on her.

She’d had a lot of rough sex in her time, but nothing hurt worse than having sex with a man who didn’t want to be having sex with her. 

He didn’t finish. Nor did she. 

It was maybe 5 minutes and then he just… stopped. Crawled off her and dressed, buttoned his trousers while she laid there on her back, a few tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Do...Should we continue the honeymoon? I’m not sure if it’s something you want...” he said awkwardly, his voice brisque and rough. 

“Do you?”

“No,” he said quickly. 

“Your parents will realize we are at the Manor.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “We can stay.”

She felt rage twinge her vision as adrenaline rushed. 

“Draco, I told you… I told you that if we did this, you had to let her go. You had to--”

“It’s not about her--” the clink of the ice as it hit his glass, the slow pour of the whiskey. 

“It is though.”

She watched the slow pull of his neck as he strained it trying to crack it. “What can I do, Astoria? How can I make you happy?” his voice was thick with sadness. 

“Let’s go on a date,” she offered shyly. “A real date. I just, I want to try, Draco. I want us to give this marriage a shot. Our parents did it, they’ve been married all these years and they seem happy… it could be us. I know it seems... forced now, but can you give me a shot?”

He downed the rest of his drink and moved slowly to sit next to her on the bed. 

“There are no words for how much I appreciate what you’ve done for my Mum; for me. Let’s try. Dinner, tomorrow?”

Astoria smiled and bit her lip. “It’s a date.”

  
  
  
  



	25. Tori Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got this finished up! It was a beast and I actually did not have it beta'd properly, so please forgive the awful mistakes! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it!

Astoria and Draco returned from Paris and began settling into life at Malfoy Manor.

Traditionally, the younger Malfoy’s would have found other housing after their honeymoon but Draco wanted to stay close to his Mother for now. He had mentioned they might look for something in the next few months but for now, this was home.

Their wing had a small sitting room and dining room, a reading room where Astoria could take tea and a study for Draco. There were a couple other small rooms that were decorated as guest rooms but the one that was directly adjacent to their room with a door that joined them was bare. Its walls were light yellow and had a navy tray ceiling with twinkly star lights speckled with constellations.

She wandered into the empty room, letting her fingers trail along the molding as she walked the perimeter before finally settling on the bench seat in the window alcove.

“Do you like it?” Narcissa appeared in the doorway with a tired smile, leaning heavily on her cane.

Astoria shot to her Mother in Law’s side, guiding her by the elbow to the window seat and joining her there.

“I do,” Astoria gave Narcissa a small but charming smile. “A nursery, a presume?”

Narcissa gave a shy smirk, that reminded the young witch of her husband. “It was Draco’s, many, many years ago..”

“Really?” Shock colored her voice at hearing this. It wasn’t traditional for the younger generation to move into the Manor until the elder had retired to a smaller property.

“Yes. Lucius and I lived in this wing until his father died, which was rather long,” Cissy replied, her eyes distant, remembering a life from long ago, “Draco spent the first 2 or 3 years in this room. When I moved in,” she grinned in memory, “The walls were a deep emerald green with black finishings. I was appalled! For a Nursery! There was a pewter snake chandelier and dark carpets. Looked a macabre version of a nursery… I immediately changed it.”

“I like the yellow,” Astoria said quietly, “Although, I’m not sure how soon the room will go to use,” Tori confessed, thinking of their one failed attempt at consummation. The one that had ended abruptly and certainly not in his the way that would ensure a Malfoy heir.

The rest of the week of their honeymoon they had shared a few kisses. Nothing passionate or even friendly… they were chaste and quick– obligatory. He always had a tightness to his mouth that tasted like guilt.

He felt like he was cheating, she reasoned. Like he was cheating on Hermione Granger with his own wife. The resounding sting had been enough that she didn’t try anything else.

“I’m sure you two will in your own time,” Narcissa smiled. “Children bring such a happiness to your life. I can see your worried but I assure you it’s quite normal, you know.” The elder witch patted Astoria’s knee and the blonde witches brows knitted tightly in confusion.

“Normal?”

“To be worried about fertility. I think every witch has moments of doubt when they first start trying to conceive-”

“Oh, no it’s not that. I just -” Astoria began wringing her hands together and stared sadly at her lap.

Cissy reached out placing a shaking hand on hers.

“You’re a lovely girl, Astoria. Be patient with each other.”

Narcissa called for their house elf who arrived suddenly.

“Poppy, can you take me back to my sitting room. I’m rather tired.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The elf held out her nobby hand.

Narcissa placed a kiss on Astoria's temple and then grabbed onto the elf’s hand, apparating away silently.

Astoria was left in the emptiness of the room and she filled it– filled it with dreams and ideas for furniture and tapestries. Filled it with visions of her rocking their blonde headed baby to sleep.

Hope was born in this empty room.

* * *

 

  
Days passed.

Maybe a week or two.

Astoria wandered the halls and went out shopping. She ate dinner with the Malfoys and then read in her sitting room until Draco would come to bed.   
Some nights he wouldn’t. She knew he was there, in the Manor, but he wasn’t in their bed and even when he did join her there, it was so late she often pretended to be asleep and he was gone before she woke.

During this time Blaise returned, she’d spotted him once or twice around Diagon Alley and was photographed with Draco on occasion. Apparently, her ex forgiven Draco. It was still crickets for her, which she wasn’t surprised about but the truth of it still stung.

Astoria had been shopping in Diagon one Tuesday afternoon before meeting her sister for lunch when she happened across Draco’s office. She paused, about to stroll past and head onto the cafe at the corner when something stopped her.

She peered at the front door and decided to pop in for a quick hello– maybe ask if Draco wanted to join her and her sister for lunch or if she could bring him anything after. She climbed the wooden stairs that creaked with history of its former tenants until she found herself in the empty foyer of Malfoy Consulting.

Her nose scrunched at the lack of decor and silently amended that she could help by dressing the entry up. She was walking towards Draco’s office when she passed the conference room and stopped mid-step upon seeing Blaise, chatting easily with Theo in the conference room.

“Well, Missus Malfoy,” Blaise said with a tight click of his jaw, “Marriage looks good on you.”

“Blaise,” she breathed, her heart plummeting.

“Hey, Astoria,” Theo greeted absently, distracted by the file in his hand and none the wiser of the tension unfolding before him, “Draco’s at the Ministry, did you need something?”

Blaise stared at her with amused eyes that she didn’t understand and she shook her head, waking herself from her trance.

“I was meeting Daph and passed by,” she replied with her eyes transfixed on Blaise, her heart aching to be in his arms for just one more moment. “I didn’t realize Draco would be out. I’ll just–”

Theo interrupted her, licking the pad of his thumb and flipped a page, “Still preliminary but Draco signed us up to help with some Dragon issue that Granger is heading up. Should be pretty huge for us, lots of publicity with the Golden Girl on it.”

Astoria paled slightly and her hands tightened on her pocketbook.

“Granger? Hermione Granger?” her eyes flickered from Blaise to Theo, her teeth grinding against each other.

“Yea,” Theo’s eyes bounced up to her, a smile playing on his lips. “Is there another Granger?

Blaise’s eyes tightened and watched her carefully and she felt she could rip the seams of her robes if she might just be able to get a full breath.

“Right. Brilliant. That’ll be great for you all,” Astoria gulped. “I’m off.”

She turned and Theo called out, “We will be sure to let Draco know you stopped by!”

“It’s not important,” she murmured and backed towards the exit.

She heard Blaise mumble something to Theo and his steps quickly behind her as he caught her elbow.

“Tori,” he hissed at her when she tried to snatch her arm back.

“What are you doing here?” she reared on him, tears welling up in her eyes for any number of reasons.

He snorted, “I work here. Draco offered me the position, and I thought, ‘What the hell?’”

“You forgive him so easily? But not me?”

“I don’t not forgive you, Astoria. Was I not allowed a reaction to you marrying my best mate? I knew it was an inevitability but it still sucks. I’m still the one who’s not married and now single.”

She wiped a tear from her eyes.

“It’s not like that, with Draco and I. We aren’t... “ she didn’t know how to say it, “It’s just not like that.”

Blaise gave her a sad smile and squeezed her upper arms gently.

“For your sake, I hope it will be someday. You deserve to be happy, Tori. I wish--” he seemed on the brink of a declaration and stopped, remembering that she was now Draco’s wife. “I wish nothing but the best for you both.”

She chewed on her cheek and nodded, turning to leave.

“It’s her then? Granger? The girl Draco fell for in Colombia?”

She gave a broken little laugh and shook her head. “Yes. The one he never fell out of love with, actually and the girl who I’m going to be competing with for the rest of my life. I might laugh if it wasn’t so damn tragic.”

“Tragic?”

“Tragic that I left the man I love, to watch my husband pine over the girl he wants more than anything. Some girls get all the luck.”

* * *

  
At lunch, Daphne was practically vibrating with anxious energy as she sat across from Astoria, her foot twitching back and forth and shaking their small table until Tori snapped.

“Are you alright?” Tori said with a harsh edge to her voice. She took a calming breath, trying to remember her ire was not with her sister.

“Yes!” she almost screamed and Tori flinched. “Well, I asked you to come here because,” Tori felt her stomach church with concrete and fall deeper into her gut, “I’m pregnant!”

Tori was listening - she was most definitely listening but everything was muddled behind a constant whooshing noise in her ears. She was smiling, wasn’t she? She pulled her cheeks tight so widen her grin and she must have been doing a good enough job because Daphne was prattling on about her first trimester and her Obstetrics healer, who she apparently adored.

Astoria nodded in all the right places and offered her congratulations along with a fierce hug but something nagged at her deep in her own belly.

* * *

  
One night a week, Tori and Draco usually made an effort to be seen about town. He had owled her earlier that day letting her know he’d made reservations at the Toad and Lily but that he wouldn’t have time to come and collect her, so would she mind just apparating and meeting him at the maitre’d desk?

Her husband. Ever the romantic.

She dressed in a simple form-fitting black dress that ended just below her knees and draped her fine cloak over her shoulders before Apparating to the nearest point near the Toad and Lily.

As she approached the restaurant, she made out the broad shoulders of Draco leaning near the front door, bathed in the warm yellow light from the streetlight.

“Draco?” she called with her hand in the air. He turned his eyes bright, only to darken and tighten upon seeing her. He recovered quickly and walked to her side, offering his arm and giving her a dry kiss on her cheekbone. “How was your day?” she asked in a perfunctory manner.

“Dull. And you?” He opened the door wide for her and she stepped into the clatter of the busy restaurant.

“Daphne’s pregnant,” she replied dryly, her gaze locking on his, studying the way they tightened and his nostril flared at the news.

“Congratulations,” he said with a nervous gulp. “We’ll be sure to send her something. You’re going to be an Aunt.”

“And you an uncle,” she supplied with a tick of her brow and he ran his tongue over his teeth.

“I suppose that’s how it works.” Draco gave a barely-there smile and placed his hand gently on her lower back ushering them forward. Speaking to the Maitre’D he announced, “Reservations under Malfoy,”

“Oh, yes,” the older gentleman scoured his ledger for a brief moment. “It will be just a moment, sir.”

Draco bristled, “A moment? We have a reservation.”

The Maitre’D fixed him with an annoyed glare. “I am well aware, sir. As you’ve just announced it for the second time. Your table is being prepared and will be ready momentarily.” He gestured with an open palm that they could wait just off to the side and Draco’s teeth bared in a predatory fashion.

“I have never in my life,” he mumbled to himself and took a step off to the right, just as someone collided into his back and he cursed, ready to hex whoever had offended him.

Astoria turned with an arched brow and felt her throat constrict.

It was her.

Hermione stumbled and her cheeks turned a shade of crimson. “Oh, er, hello…” she tucked a loose curl behind her ear and Astoria could sense her husband's discomfort. The curly-haired witches gaze fell onto Tori, who straightened her spine like a good little Pureblooded witch, relishing when Hermione seemed to pain at the sight of her.

There was an overwhelming part of Astoria that was overjoyed at her rivals discomfort upon looking at her. She pursed her lips to keep from smiling as Hermione struggled to maintain eye contact.

“Miss Granger!” the Maitre’d gushed from behind them, “Why the rest of your party has already arrived! Can I escort you?”

“Pardon me, Malfoys. I guess being the Gryffindor Princess has its perks,” she smiled tightly and made a quick exit.

“Bloody fucking brilliant,” Malfoy cursed under his breath. “Maybe we should go somewhere else?” He looked almost pained as Draco watched his witch move lithely through the crowded restaurant.

“That’ll just make you look weak. Let’s just take our seat and try to ignore her,” Astoria offered, knowing that it was an impossible task.

Instead, they spent the majority of their dinner watching the brunette throw her head back in laughter as they ordered round after round of wine service. The entire table of Gryffindors was in a rare mood as they spilled laugh after laugh into the air and set Draco’s teeth on edge.

Mercifully, the dinner ended and the Malfoy’s made their way to the door, but Astoria didn’t miss the long glace Draco took at his witch before they left.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks passed and nothing much changed, the only thing that did was the ever-present tension that seemed to stretch tighter between Draco and Astoria.

She spent countless hours in the nursery, thinking about his motives in marrying her. She had given him a way out, had explained in no uncertain details they could walk away from all of this without another thought. Still, he had persisted in their union.

She knew it was to save his mother– there was no deceit there but there must have been other ways of going about it. Why string her along into a marriage he had no intention of even participating in?

She settled into the bench by the window, kicking her shoes off and drawing her legs up to her.

Who would have guessed in a house this big, filled with so many living souls - that she could feel so utterly alone.

 

* * *

 

Every week Astoria managed to get a few of her girlfriends together for a dinner but tonight had somehow spiraled into a rare evening with some classmates from Hogwarts, mostly her Slytherin class but there had been a few from the other houses as well, mostly spouses or co-workers of the Slytherin’s present.

Usually, Astoria didn’t indulge in more than 2 drinks when she was out… it wasn’t entirely proper, especially without her husband present. But then again, who the fuck cares, she thought with a mischievous smile as she sipped on her third martini.

She had invited Draco along but he had declined quickly this afternoon, stating he had a work dinner. She wasn’t surprised. The idea that he would attend an event with her where it wouldn’t be photographed as evidence of their happy marriage, well that just wasn’t in the cards.

She was chatting with Malcolm Mclaggen, a Ravenclaw in her year that had always had a terrible crush on her. She was grinning into her chilled martini glass, enjoying the doting way Malcolm was staring at her and bragging about his work with… with… what exactly did he do again?

Honestly, she thought it just felt bloody good to have an ounce of attention.

The crowd roared when Tracy joined, punching her friends playfully in the arm and laughing loudly as she greeted everyone. Her eyes landed on Astoria and she rushed up to her old friend, wrapping her arms around her neck and squeezing firmly.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Tracy grinned, holding Astoria at arm's length and studying her face. She always thought Tracy had a bit of crush on her too, but she never had anything other than suspicion to go on.

“I’ve missed you! How are you?” Astoria adjusted in her seat and turning from Malcolm’s attention briefly and smiling widely at her friend.

“Oh good, you know how work can be,” she rolled her eyes and Astoria smiled politely back at her. But no, Astoria didn’t know work could be… she’d never worked a day in her life. “Merlin, I haven’t seen you since your wedding! I would ask where Draco is, but I just saw him down the street. He’s keeping strange company these days,” Tracy nudged her with her elbow and Astoria stiffened.

“Sorry?” Tori turned her ear towards her, pretending she couldn’t hear because of the noise.

“Just, when did he start taking dinners with Hermione Granger? I barely…” Trace kept talking but the blood was pulsing so loudly in Astoria’s ears she couldn’t comprehend a single word.   
“I’m sorry, Tracy,” she interrupted, rushing to her feet. “I actually just realized I need to be going.” She fished into her pocketbook for a few spare galleons and tossed them on the counter. “Let’s catch up soon, yeah?” she leaned in and brushed her cheek against the other witch in a fake kiss.

Astoria was still vaguely aware that Tracy was talking but she left without another word, stepping out into the rain and casting her umbrella charm into the air. Her heels clicked mercilessly against the wet pavement as she stormed the two blocks west.

She couldn’t believe Draco would be so bloody insensitive as to cheat on her in right in Diagon Alley. Her teeth were grinding flat as she let her rage boil and burn in her chest.

Astoria approached the restaurant and pushed the door open, ignoring the Maitre’D and letting her eyes scan the room for the curly-haired whore and her cheating husband. By the time that she found them, she had lost the element of surprise.

She was utterly shocked to find that it wasn’t just Draco and Hermione at a cozy table in the corner, canoodling and holding hands. It was, in fact, a business dinner – with Hermione Granger, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini, and all three of them were staring right at her.

All she wanted was to tuck tail and run, but she had lost that opportunity as soon as they had set eyes on her. Bollocks, she cursed under her breath.

She steeled herself and marched through the dining room, standing just behind Draco’s seat as he prattled on about something or other.

Finally, after so long that it was becoming painful, Draco looked over his shoulder. It was a frantic darting of eyes then as he panicked and looked at Hermione, while she looked at Blaise and Blaise stared back at Hermione with wide, amused eyes. Interesting.

“Draco, dear,” Astoria managed sweetly, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek with a rigid back, hiding her shaking her hands.

“Astoria,” Draco drawled through gritted teeth, “What are you doing here?” he tried for more casual.

“Well, I was just up the road for my weekly girls' dinner and ran into Tracy. She said she’d been here for drinks and saw you all and I just had to stop in and see for myself,” Astoria took a shallow breath and turned towards the witch on her left. “Hello, Hermione,” she nodded politely.

Hermione coughed at the simple greeting, choking violently on her Champagne. Theo moved to tap her on the back and Blaise spat out the champagne in his mouth, laughing hysterically.

“Sorry, wrong pipe,” she continued coughing and wiping at her mouth like a savage.

“Wrong pipe?” Astoria’s face curled up at the foreign turn of phrase.

“Muggle phrase, I guess,” Hermione winced.

“Ah,” Astoria nodded politely, her eyes tightening, “Anyhow, I was just popping in to see if you aren’t done with your…” she eyed the bottles of champagne and empty whiskey glasses disdainfully, “Work meeting? I thought you might escort me home.”

Draco closed his eyes and licked his lips. He looked as if he were trying to focus and channel his energy somewhere.

“Of course,” he finally breathed, “What kind of gentlemen could refuse?” He threw his linen napkin against his plate and the resounding clang from the silverware made her wince. “Charge it to the business account,” he nodded at Theo.

Draco stood and gestured that Astoria lead the way and he followed her out.

Once they were out of the restaurant, Draco’s hand reached out to grasp at her elbow, squeezing too tightly and she reared on him.

“How fucking dare you?” She hissed into the rain.

“How fucking dare I? You interrupt a business meeting and make me look like a complete arse–?

“Oh, you need absolutely no help from me to look like an arse, Draco Malfoy. What are you doing parading your whore out for dinners for the public to see?” Draco bared his teeth and stepped dangerously into her, “Do you realize how pathetic you make me look? Have the decency to take your trash out of town.” She ripped her elbow from his grasp and stormed past him but he was in her path in two strides.

“You will not speak of her that way. Not in my presence, nor out of it. I have absolutely no personal relationship with Hermione Granger. Blaise, your Blaise, invited her to our team dinner.” His voice was a low, menacing warning and she could feel his quiet words spreading over her skin.

A good pureblood witch would apologize… she would eat her words and back off. But that wasn’t Astoria.

“Well you,” she shoved her pointer finger into his sternum, “Should have respected,” at the word Draco threw his head back and gave a cruel roll of his eyes and it distracted Astoria from her point, “You should have respected me enough to decline. Draco,” she sighed, defeated, “I’m your wife. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Draco studied her face for a long time, the rain pelting off their skin and ignoring the staring passersby.

Finally, he licked his lips and nodded his head. “You’re right, Astoria. I’m sorry, okay? There were things that needed to be discussed and I had no control over her invitation.”

Astoria’s chest let out a hollow sob and Draco hesitated briefly before taking her in his arms and wrapping her in an awkward, forced but welcomed embrace.

“Let’s get home.” He whispered into her hair and she nodded. He took her hand and led to her to the nearest Apparition point. Astoria couldn’t help a small smile from playing on her lips.

* * *

 

  
Astoria was anxiously sitting on the stiff paper in the Obstetrics patient room, her feet dangling and her fingers tapping nervously against her thigh.

She hadn’t wanted the bloody appointment in the first place but Narcissa had gone through so much trouble to set it up with her healer, insisting that a little peace of mind in regards to her fertility would make her feel so much better.

Astoria was in no way worried about her uterus. She wasn’t getting pregnant because they weren’t bloody trying, they weren’t even holding hands, let alone any activity that would be a prerequisite for conceiving a child.

But here she was - scowling at the salmon covered walls and cursing the tiny moving kitten portrait that was staring at her.

There was a light rap of knuckles at the door and a young healer entered with a gracious smile and a file folder clutched to her chest.

“Missus Malfoy! A pleasure to meet you,” she reached her hand out enthusiastically and Astoria took it begrudgingly, staring down her nose at the tiny witch. “I am Healer Shelby. I’m curious what we can do for you today?” Shelby leaned against the counter and crossed one ankle over the other, her bright young face full of joy. Ugh.

“This appointment was actually at the insistence of my Mother-in-law. She seems to think I’m anxious about conceiving a child,” Astoria laughed nervously and straightened her perfectly manicured hair.

“And are you?” Shelby’s asked genuinely, her brows falling slightly.

Astoria chuckled darkly, mostly to herself, staring at her hands wringing themselves anxiously in her lap. “If I’m being honest Healer, my husband and I haven’t– I meant to say, we don’t– Our marriage is arranged.” She lifted her eyes to the other blonde witch then and tilted her chin proudly. “We haven’t been together long enough that intimacy has become habitual.”

A look of sad acknowledgment washed over the witches face as she pushed up from her leaning and smiled knowingly at Astoria.

“I understand. Are children something you want eventually?” her face tilted and her eyes slightly squinted as she pried.

Astoria took a moment to think about it. No one had actually asked her if wanted children someday, it was simply expected that she would.

“I think so,” she allowed. “When the time is right, I still feel rather young.”

Shelby surprised her by laughing, “You feel that way because you are young. You have plenty of years to be a mother but I’m curious… how is your relationship with your husband?”

Astoria visibly flinched from the question and Shelby noticed, her eyes knitting together in concern.

“It’s fine,” Astoria clipped– her spine straightening.

“You can talk to me,” the witch encouraged, “I’m your healer and I’m here to help you in any way you need.”

Astoria gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Truthfully, everything is fine. It’s nothing I didn’t expect and I’m coping with the changes. I am in no way devastated not to be caring the next Malfoy heir at this time and would love to be able to go back to my Mother-in-law with good news to relieve her of her worry.”

The young healer studied Astoria for a moment, clearly wanting to say more but not wanting to push her luck. She resolved to say nothing, it would seem, as she drew her wand and instructed Astoria to lie back and lift her shirt to expose her belly.

Healer Shelby cast a wordless charm over Astoria’s belly and a glowing hologram appeared, hovering inches about her bare stomach. Shelby spent several minutes twisting her wand and studying the diagnostic charm, saying nothing. She was silent for so long began to actually worry something may be wrong but before she could voice her concern, Shelby dropped her wand and smiled.

“All appears in working order, Missus Malfoy. I don’t foresee any reasons you should have trouble conceiving when the right time comes.” Astoria released a strangled breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and her eyes flickered closed in relief. “Are you interested in discussing anything else with me?”

Astoria gave a tight smile and shook her head. “I think that about covers it. Thank you.”

Shelby moved towards the door and opened it, “I’d say, all things look perfectly, Missus Malfoy,” the healer boasted with a smile. “I look forward to seeing you very soon,” the healer turned to return into the exam room but paused and said, “And, hey! Congratulations!” She said it with deep sincerity in her eyes like she was trying to see the positives in this situation Astoria called her life. “There will be a new little Malfoy before you know it!”

Astoria returned her kindness with a wry smile and turned to walk back down the long echoing corridor when her eyes fell on the pale and shaken Hermione Granger, staring at the exchange between herself and Healer Shelby.

There was a moment of brief inner turmoil; she should tell her she wasn’t pregnant, she would want that courtesy if the roles were reversed. A deep flame ignited in her belly, a protective, jealous rage that consumed her kindness –causing her lips to tighten into a flat line and her chin to upturn just a fraction, just enough to keep the control in the silent battle.

Let her think whatever she wants.

Astoria turned down the corridor, the only sound greeting her was of her own clacking heels against the cheap tile. As she neared the exit and placed her hand on the handle to exit, she turned briefly over her shoulder. Hermione Granger: champion of the underdog, fiercest heroine and the most brilliant witch of their age, was slouched against the wall where she had stood only moments before.

She felt a twinge of remorse in her belly, but before she could act on it the door was closing behind her.

* * *

  
The meeting had stirred something in Astoria and she had left with a desperate feeling of wanting to connect with her husband over something...anything. She resolved to tell Draco about her appointment with the healer. It’s not as though she initiated the meeting, she reasoned. Surely wives told their husbands about their day and their health - it couldn’t be that odd.

She dressed down for bed and waited on the balcony until about ten o’clock. Her warming charm was having a hard time keeping up with the autumn chill so she retired to the reading chair in their room and picked up a romance novel she kept on the end table. She read for an hour… then two. She then alternated staring at the page without reading and staring at the clock on the wall.

Around one o’clock she slammed her book shut and stood with an angry groan, pacing back and forth with only the sound of her shuffling feet for company.

She finally couldn’t stand it another moment before she whipped their bedroom door and marched towards Draco’s office, expecting to find him sitting at his desk, maybe snoozing since it was so late.

But as her feet crossed the threshold and her eyes raked the empty space, her shoulders slumped.

He wasn’t there.

She clucked her tongue and opened the door directly across from his study, an empty guest room. She checked her tea room and another guest room, still nothing.

She gave a resounding sigh, standing in the rich hall surrounded by sleeping portraits when one finally spoke.

“Pssst! Mrs. Malfoy,” an elderly wizard with a crooked nose and mischievous eyes whispered into the darkness.

“Lumos,” she cast and a soft glow spilled from the tip of her wand. “Yes?” her brows arched as she took another step towards the enchanted portrait.

“Are you looking for your husband?” his voice croaked.

She bristled and tilted her chin up aristotically, “Yes. Have you seen him?”

“He stumbled in there,” his finger, covered in age spots, pointed to the door just behind her and she nodded her appreciation, turning abruptly on her heel.

She shoved the door open to the small library open, her ire returning easily. Astoria was prepared to scream but her voice fell quiet in her gaping mouth.

The fire was roaring on the wall to her right, Draco was dozing on the cushioned loveseat directly in front of it, his leg hanging off the edge and his head propped at an uncomfortable angle. There was a stack of books piled atop the coffee table next to a decanter of Firewhiskey and an empty tumbler. He slept with his hand resting on his chest clutching a small piece of strange paper.

She rolled her eyes and summoned a small throw pillow, about to place it under his neck so he wouldn’t wake up with a sore neck, but when she moved closer something sparked her curiosity. She stared at the small square piece of paper in his hand and realized that the material was rather odd, a thick almost plastic covering the back.

She reached out with a steady hand and grasped the strange object in her hand, as she turned it over her breath caught in her throat and she fell to her knees softly in front of her snoring husband.

It was a truly lovely photograph of Hermione Granger, no one could argue that. Her wild curls were splayed all around her and an infectious grin wide on her face.

Astoria swallowed thickly, a knot wedging its way in her tight throat. Her eyes roamed the peaceful face of her husband, his lips quirking up in an almost smile before settling back down into a relaxed jaw. He was lost in a dream that she was certain she wasn’t apart of.

Astoria was speechless, her hands limp in her lap and staring at a stolen moment of Draco and Hermione’s. Her eyes lifted slowly, her breath coming slowly and almost sadly and her eyes caught the title of the book he had fallen asleep reading.

“Marital Law: Betrothals, Prenuptials, and Blood Magic.”

She lifted it easily and found it open to a list of reasons to annul the marriage and she snorted as she read the archaic list– not that it was her first time, but it would never cease to shock her.

Draco Malfoy had fallen asleep gripping the photograph of the woman he loved while researching ways out of their marriage.

She placed the book and the photograph on the table purposefully, thinking he may notice and know that he had hurt her– even if he didn’t care– and left the small library wordlessly.

She lay awake from too long, long enough that sun had begun to crest over the hill to the east. When she heard the soft steps pad down the hall she sneered and grabbed the edge of the duvet, turning and tugging it over her head to shield her view of him.

She listened with quiet tears falling down her cheeks as he showered and dressed, then left without a word.

What a stupid witch she was, to have ever thought they could have a real future together. Draco was incapable of letting her go.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, in her best robes, she sached down the dreary ministry hall behind a young woman who seemed to be Miss Granger’s assistant. She had thought about making an appointment but thought Hermione might not take it, it would also give her the opportunity to cancel. So she had simply sprung a surprise visit, thinking it may just give her the upper hand.

The receptionist gestured into the plain office and Astoria almost grinned at Granger’s nervous stammering.

“Miss-” she faltered and grimaced, “I’m, I mean… Missus… Missus Malfoy,” she smiled too brightly and Astoria lifted her well-manicured brow.

Hermione waved anxiously at the chair in front of her and Astoria took it demurely, crossing one ankle over the other and laying her hands over the pocketbook in her lap. The tension was palpable as their magic swelled in defense, sensing their distress.

Calm. Proud. Collected. You are the one who is being wronged here.

“I’ll get straight to it, Miss Granger,” Astoria tilted her chin up but she could feel her jaw shake ever so slightly. “I would like my husband back.”

There was a beat of silence as the curly-haired witch tried to understand what she had just heard. Astoria waited.

“I’m sure I don’t--” Hermione replied with a bewildering look in her eye but Astoria raised her hand to silence her.

Tori took a deep breath in and then sighed, trying to remember the speech she had been rehearsing to herself. “I imagine in your version of this story, I’m the villain. Am I right?” she stared down at her gloved hands, playing with a loose bit of thread, “I imagine I am,” she repeated sadly. “This Pureblood witch who came and stole Draco away. Who gets to live in this giant house and have his babies and… well, I get to love the man you love,” she lied easily. “I can only imagine how you must feel about me,” Astoria gave a delicate snort and shook her head solemnly.

Astoria met Hermione’s gaze, her own eyes rimmed red with unwanted tears.

The blonde witch re-crossed her ankles and fussed with her hair, a lone tear leading the way down her porcelain cheek. Before she spoke again, she sucked in a broken breath.

“Did you know I was in love? Madly, actually,” she said with a smile, remembering her affair with Blaise. “With a pureblood who didn’t have a marriage contract and was ready to take me to be his wife. We almost eloped,” she laughed to herself, “But, we didn’t. We didn’t and I stayed and now… I’m Missus Malfoy,” she huffed out a breath of air and wiped at the tears falling, “If I hadn’t, Draco’s inheritance would be gone. More importantly, Narcissa would have suffered – she’s been like an Aunt to me in my childhood. I wasn’t close with Draco growing up, I was a bit younger and a girl. But I saw him around and he was friendly enough. Not like Crabbe or Goyle who tortured me and my sister,” she continued with a roll of her eyes. “Draco always had a bit of nonchalance about us Greengrass girls. But I’ve known Narcissa, loved her, even. She’s been a dear friend of my mothers... I need you to know that I forfeited a lot here too. Maybe you and Draco forget that.”

Astoria had intended to go in guns blazing, but now it felt like she was begging. The saddest part was that she didn’t care.

“Astoria… are you ok?” Hermione’s soft voice broke her reverie. “Is there something I can get for you? Tea?”

“I get it,” she snapped and Hermione jumped in her seat, “I’m not stupid. I might not be the most brilliant little witch Hogwarts ever saw, but I’m not exactly a barn cat. Draco came home and he told me all about you. He begged for a way out and my heart pained for him. I tried my best to help him and as we suspected, there was no way out. So, I put on my white dress and marched down the aisle. I got him a big fat inheritance, saved his mother, and gave up my family name,” she shook her head in disbelief, “Lady Malfoy. One of the longest lines of Pureblood magic… and jealous of a Muggleborn.” Astoria’s face crumpled in disbelief at her last words. “You see, he has you on this pedestal. This pedestal that’s so high, I merely exist in your shadow. I’m terrified of your memory and all the ways that it’s going to haunt me and my family for the rest of my life.”

Hermione was about to speak but Astoria barely gave her a chance, she wasn’t finished.

“I know I’m the villain in your version of this story,” Astoria repeated, “But… can you imagine, just for a moment, that you might be the villain in mine? I am stuck in a loveless marriage with a man who is allowed to walk out the front door and fuck whoever he wants.”

Hermione flinched when she cursed and even Astoria found that the word sounded harsh on her lips.

“I live by some archaic set of rules that are so…” her voice trailed off and she swallowed tightly, “I can’t even critique my mother in law over linen choices, lest she decide that I have insulted her and give her son all the reason he needs to divorce me,” she laughed dryly, “A divorcee by 21. I’m sure you can imagine how well my prospects might look in the future. Not that Narcissa would do that, of course… but… it doesn’t matter.”

Astoria wiped the final tears from her cheeks and straightened her spine, meeting Hermione’s concerned gaze with one of her own disapproval.

“You represent choice, Hermione Granger. A choice my husband will never get to have. I’d like to learn to love this man and have a marriage I can be proud of. Generations of Purebloods have done so before us and I know we can too. But I can’t while you’re still consuming his every thought.”

“Astoria… I am not, in any way, trying to interfere with your marriage--”

“Don’t,” Astoria’s green eyes flashed dangerously, “Don’t. It’s insulting. I am simply asking…” she gulped thickly, like there was a snitch in her mouth she was trying to work down her throat, “I’m begging. Give him back to me. Leave my marriage and my husband alone.”

Hermione opened her mouth to defend herself but then snapped it shut and instead, simply nodded.

Astoria didn’t say another word. She rose elegantly, her robes swirling around her as she made far too grand an exit for the space she was in.

* * *

  
Tori was on her fourth… no her fifth glass of champagne. The gala was truly a spectacle and she recognized Blaise’s handiwork in every detail. The chiffon that rippled in waves from the ceiling had been charmed to change the varying colors of fire and smoke swirled around their feet.

Blaise had arrived alone, blessedly, and she could barely tear her eyes from him when she’d first spotted him, he had always looked exceptional in a set of dress robes. He had that mischievous look in his eyes as he spotted her too, letting his gaze travel slowly down her frame before returning to his conversation with Lady Parkinson.

For the next few hours she was flitted around the room like a trophy wife– sometimes introduced, other times ignored– as she clung to her husband's arm and snagged every passing Champagne tray she could.

She has lost count around the third glass of champagne of people who had asked when they planned to fill the Manor with tiny Malfoys and her polite smile was beginning to wane into an annoyed sneer.

She was sipping on her fifth–or was it sixth– glass of champagne with Missus Bulstrode who was prattling on and on about the merits of Motherhood and how rewarding it could be, nodding politely along as she could muster when Draco suddenly appeared and requested a moment with his wife, his charming smile ever present on his mouth.

Astoria bid the Bulstrodes a happy evening and was shocked to find herself swept up in her husband's arms and twirling around the dance floor.

“Draco,” she chided lightly. “I’ve just spilled my drink,” Astoria murmured looking down at her dress.

A server passed by with a tray and Draco plucked the half drank glass from her fingertips and let it float away with the nameless man while Astoria pouted.

“What on earth has gotten into you? I don’t know that we danced at our own wedding –” Astoria was almost playful with her words as she stared at the intensity on his face.

“We did,” he grumbled out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes raking over the crowd or swirling guests. She almost gasped as she felt his hand dip onto her lower back and press her into him and her eyes snapped up to study him. He was staring over her shoulder intently and she happened to chance a look, even though she didn’t need to. She knew who was there.

Hermione Granger in all her stunning glory, spinning in the arms of the most handsome Weasley by far. Astoria sighed but didn’t say anything, she let Draco lead her through their dance as he imagined dancing with someone else.

If her heart hadn’t been so terribly damaged already, she imagined it would have cracked another time. There was nothing left.

The song faded to silence and Draco stopped them, turning them towards the stage, his eyes still searching Hermione. Astoria’s jaw tightened and she wanted to hex the both of them, instead she grabbed another glass of champagne and smiled falsely up at her husband, who it seemed could give her just enough attention to chastise her.

“You don’t want to have too many more of those dear,” he scolded with a tight smile, lest anyone be watching the pair of them. “Wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of so many important clients.”

“Oh, is that so, darling? But you can go around eye-fucking that curly haired little whore–”

Her insult was cut short by the snarl that escaped his lips and the tight hold he had on her hip.

“Haven’t I warned you about speaking of her like that. It’s not her fault, she didn’t do anything –”

Blaise had begun a rapturous speech in the background, must have been hilarious by the laughter bubbling from the crowd. Draco and Astoria were in a bubble of mutual loathing and the hissing insults being passed back and forth.

“She didn’t?” Astoria laughed brightly. “My ass. I’m your wife, Draco. You need to respect me as such.”

Draco opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut again, his eyes crinkling at the edges. She gulped because even though he hadn’t said a word, she knew what he was thinking.

He wanted out.

“Our fearless leader, Draco Malfoy,” Blaise’s voice boomed and cut through their bubble, their eye contact breaking for the first time, “and the one and only, Hermione Granger,” the light hit her and the crowds parted.

Astoria’s heart went cold in her chest as Draco left her side to escort Hermione to the limelight.

She would not cry. Not here and not over Hermione-sodding-Granger but try as she might she could feel the lump of anxiety swell in her throat and stick here, painful teardrops prickling the sides of her eyes.

She stared at the brunette witch as she made a sparkling, light-hearted speech. Singling out Blaise who seemed to be so close with her that an entirely new depth of despair opened in her belly.

She wanted to scream, wanted to yank at her hair until she left bald patches and claw that stupid bints eyes out.

Granger’s eyes found Astoria’s briefly, who was seething in her anger and tilted her chin proudly one last time. One last stand of authority.

She was Missus Malfoy.

As Hermione stepped to the side and Charlie Weasley escorted three truly adorable baby dragons out onto the stage, Astoria tore from her spot in the audience and rushed to the nearest washroom.

When she was finally in front of the wash basin she braced both hands on the side of the sink and hunched over in defeat, letting one broken sob escape before she slapped her hand over her mouth.

He was going to divorce her. After less than three months… why? Why did he put her through this entire ordeal? He needed to see her get shagged by Weasley in order to realize that he couldn’t live without her?

Astoria couldn’t quell the rage building up in her and in a burst of accidental magic, the lights flickered on and off. She tried to slow her breathing and regain her composure, her eyes lifting to appraise herself in the mirror.

She was a beautiful witch, and she didn’t mean that in a vain sort of way – it was just a fact. Centuries of good breeding had left her with beautiful cheekbones and full lips, her hair was twisted neatly behind her, a few flirtatious wisps falling from her hairline and her dress was absolutely stunning, ivory silk that hung loosely from her curves and exposed her naked back.

With a final sobering breath, she straightened her spine and marched from the washroom intent on making her way to the Floo and back to Malfoy Manor.

Long fingers wrapped around her forearm and stopped her midstep, she was just about to hex the fool who would dare touch her, when she realized it was Blaise. Her breath left her in a huff and she paled at being so close to him again.

“Blaise?”

“Dance with me, Tori,” he lips pulled up crookedly and before she could answer, he was leading her to the dance floor and pulling her into his arms.

“This is hardly proper,” she said through pursed lips, looking around the room to see if anyone else would recognize the scandal.

Blaise let out a cheerful laugh and brought her in closer, “No one knows we were ever a thing, remember? For all they know, I’m just pushing my boss’s wife around the dance floor a time or two.”

She leveled him with a playful glare, “And do you always keep your hand so low on other men’s wives?”

“You know, I’ll tell you, I don’t normally do wives. But for you, I’m almost always ready to make an exception.” His eyes sparkled and he gave her a cheeky wink.

She felt a blush stain her cheeks and she stared off into the crowd, ever aware of the way Blaise’s thumb was skating little circles along the curve of her back.

“How’ve you been?” she asked cooly, an air of nonchalance about her.

“Been better,” he replied easily. “I miss you like crazy.”

She stiffened in his arms and her eyes flickered closed for a moment.

Dangerous, Tori. He spun her around the dance floor without pause, as if hadn’t just made a declaration to her. She studied the lines of his face as he looked down at her, his impossible full lips, his sharp cheekbones, and mischievous eyes. Her life had been simple and beautiful; full of love that left her weak in its wake.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” she breathed, shaking her head to clear it from his confession.

“It’s the truth,” he said with an arched brow. “What? You don’t miss me?” his cocky tone made her eyes roll and she stepped pointedly on his foot.

“Oops!” she said falsely with wide, innocent eyes and a smirk playing on her lips.

“OW! I’ve danced with you enough times, Astoria Greengrass, to know that was no accident,” he smiled wickedly at her.

She arched an amused brow, “It’s Malfoy, now.”

“Oh that’s right…” his feigned ignorance and took a quick step back, flourishing her in an over exaggerated twirl.

“The song’s over,” she remarked, staring up at him.

“Nothing’s over until we say it is,” he smirked slyly at her. All she wanted was to rest her cheek against his chest and breathe in the scent of his rich cologne, let her hands close around the nape of his neck.

As the crowd started to thin she was shaken from her daydream and took a step back from him.

“I should go,” she smiled weakly at him, tears threatening to spill over yet again. “Thanks for the dance, Blaise.”

“Tori,” he rushed, reaching out for her fingers. He caught them quickly but she yanked them back, fussing with her dress instead. No one appeared to be paying them any attention, but she couldn’t take that chance.

“I should find Draco,” she gulped and turned, taking a few determined steps in the opposite direction.

“Why Tori?” his voice was pained and she halted her exit to chance a look over her shoulder. “You deserve so much better than this life you’re parading around in and you know it,” he was getting angrier with each word and stomping to stand in front of her yet again.

“I’m married to your best mate,” a tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it frantically away with the tips of her perfectly polished fingers. “You shouldn’t be talking to me like this.”

“He’s in love with her. What end are you hoping for? Maybe she finally moves on and gets married, maybe then he’ll look at you as a possible back up? You guys fucked up and I hate seeing the two people I love the most in this world so miserable.”

“Oh,” she snorted, “So sorry this has been hard on you.”

“Just tell him, Tori,” he gave one last effort to get through to her. “Tell him you want out. Tell him you want to be with me because I still want you. I’m still in love with you,” Blaise stepped dangerously into her space and pushed one of her loose strands behind her ear. “And if I can only have you in the shadows… if my lot in life is to be your dirty little mistress? I’ll take it. I’ll take it with a smile and be grateful every day I wake up that I get to call you mine.”

The tears were streaking angry paths down her cheeks and she was trembling as he spoke.

“Blaise, I can’t do this. I need to find my husband…” he pushed past him, nudging him with her shoulder and rushing from the ballroom towards the foyer.

“Tori...TORI!” he called off after her but each step took her further and further away.

She resolved just to leave, she would come up with an excuse for Draco when she saw him.

But as her heels clicked angrily along the expensive marble she spotted the broad shoulders of Hermione Granger’s date and slowed her gait. She studied the scene before her with a sick feeling in her gut.

Hermione Granger, with freshly ruffled curls, was standing at the top of the stairs, looking over her shoulder at not one, but two wizards. Those two wizards were staring at each other knowingly, their chests puffed up and their breathing shallow.

Her eyes raked over her husband, his messy hair and bow tie untied and hanging around his neck. She gasped and took a stunned step back.

Hermione was gone and Draco gave one low warning to Charlie Weasley before turning on his heel and storming back towards the event.

“Draco,” she hissed, sobbing. “DRACO MALFOY!”

He stopped and turned towards her with a cold look in his eye.

“I’ll meet you at the Manor,” he replied through a tight jaw.

She made quick steps to follow him and grasped desperately at his dress robes but the expensive fabric slipped through her fingers.

  
“Draco,” she pleaded. “Please.”

He stopped abruptly and pinched at the bridge of his nose, his eyes clenched closed and breathing erratically.

“I will speak to you later, alright. We will sort everything out later, I just – I need to go, Astoria.”

He was gone before she could even ask him to stay, or maybe ask him to take her home… ask him to leave.

Damn all that blasted Champagne… she was now weeping openly, passerby’s having witnessed her humiliation were now whispering to each other as they walked by in hushed tones and judgemental sneers.

“C’mon, Tor,” Blaise’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and she didn’t fight it, she melted into him and let him lead her to the Floo’s.

* * *

  
Back at the Manor, Tori walked the dark halls at a begrudgingly low pace, her heels in her hand and her sore feet pushing her forward. Each step bringing her closer to the inevitable; to the end. Closer to her failure as a wife, as a daughter, as everything she had once aspired to be.

She wanted to soak in a shower so hot that it melted off the first layer of skin, wanted to burn the visions of Draco cheating out her mind.

She wasn’t cloaked in prideful ignorance… she knew their marriage was a lie. Hell, even using the term marriage was an insult to husbands and wives everywhere. But, she had thought… had honestly believed if she put enough effort into it, she could save it. She wanted to just give him time to grieve and move on. Astoria knew full well how unhealed wounds left nasty scars on broken hearts; she hadn’t wanted that for him.

But her patience was wasted. It was completely in vain as he had instead chosen to fall deeper in love with the little swot.

As she approached their suite, she noticed the flickering light of a fire under the door of his study and paused. Without thought, her tired hands reached out for the handle and pushed it easily open.

It’d been hours since she’d left the Gala. Blaise had Floo’d them to his flat and sat with her while she cried silent tears, filling her tumbler with Firewhiskey until her eyes were heavy with drunkenness.

It seemed Draco had a similar idea, he was sprawled along his small sofa in front of the fire, an empty decanter tipped on its side on the floor near his outstretched hand. Damn, could have used another drink.

She trudged slowly into the room, her bare feet barely lifting off the plush carpet with each step.

Astoria sank onto the wooden coffee table facing him, her hands lying lamely in her lap as she watched the shadows of the fire flicker over his face again and again.

The hash shadows bringing the deep set lines of his face and his swollen lips into reality. His handsome face was twisted in broken sleep, she wanted to reach out – to smooth the wrinkles from his forehead for just a moment.

This was the end.

Astoria would be leaving the Manor and an ache settled deep into her belly when she wondered sadly if Hermione would move in – wondered how long it would take him to propose.

Her hands brushed the expensive fabric of his jacket next to her thigh and she paused – letting her fingers wander along the rich stitching, she lifted it gingerly and brought the labels up to her face, breathing in the scent of him.

She buried her face there and felt something rub against the thin silk of her dress, cold and hard. She sighed in relief as she recognized the shape of a flask and prayed it was empty.

She retrieved the flask, but her brows knitted together as her fingers brushed a foreign material wrapped clumsily around it.

She stared for several minutes at the objects in her hand.

A circular little flask with a snake tangled around an intricate ‘M’, the Malfoy crest and a set of small, modest, black lace knickers; ones she’d never set eyes on in her life.

A violent rage exploded in her chest and she closed her fist tightly and stormed from the room dropping the flask and the jacket on the ground and slammed the door behind her.

She marched drunkenly and determinedly towards the owl post in their wing, the knickers still clenched in her hand.

 

* * *

 

Sunday she spent the day in their wing with a bottle of very expensive liquor as her constant companion. She wandered from their suite to her tea room and finally collapsed in a drunken heap on the floor of the would-be nursery.

Astoria had an overwhelming sense of loss and she felt the need to grieve, even if the marriage had been far from happy… hell, it had hardly been tolerable.

She had been living up to these impossible expectations of her family – these archaic standards for witches that left her stifled and unbearably lonely.

Maybe that was the death she was mourning – the one of the witch she was supposed to be.

There had always been this feeling of helplessness when it came to Astoria’s future. Every decision had been made by those deemed more competent, more important. Even the decision to end the blasted marriage had belonged to Draco.

She clamped her jaw in anger and wished suddenly this room was furnished, just so she could tear it apart.

She felt a delicious little thought creep to the forefront of her mind and her brows fell low over her eyes as she tried to formulate her plan.

Maybe… maybe it still could be her decision…

 

* * *

 

Her hands were shaking as the elevator made it’s slow climb towards the penthouse, her eyes staring as the numbers lit up indicating each passing floor.

Finally, as the elevator slowed to a stop, her gaze fell to her heeled feet and the small duffle sitting next to them. Astoria wasn’t sure she could handle another rejection – she clung to the way he had stared at her at the Gala, the feeling of his thumb running circles on her lower back.

“There she is,” he smirked cool amusement coloring his voice.

She felt her lips quirk up in a smile as she peered up through her lashes at him.

“Hi,” she breathed.

Blaise tilted his head as he studied her, his hands shoved into the pockets of near black denims. The sleeves of his white oxford were rolled, pushed up to reveal his muscle of his forearm.

Long enough passed that the elevator threatened to close and Blaise’s arm shot to halt it, blocking it with his arm and staring intensely into her eyes.

“You coming in?” he brows quirked up and she let out a relieved sigh.

He reached down and grabbed her bag as she made cautious steps into his flat, everything here felt at home to her. They had napped on that couch and made love on that counter, they had read the paper together in the plush armchairs over by the window and had a disastrous attempt at crepes in that kitchen.

She pulled at her fingers, a nervous habit she adopted when she had nothing to do with her hands.

She heard her duffle drop to the floor and his soft footsteps come up behind her. Tears were welling at the corner of her eyes for reasons she couldn’t name and when he finally came up behind her and wrapped his long arms over her shoulders she sank into him, letting him support all the baggage she couldn’t carry anymore.

“Does Draco know you’re here?” he rested his chin on the top of her head and pulled her flush against him in a one-sided hug.

“No,” she clipped, her jaw raising slightly. “But, I don’t really care about what he has to say about it.”

Astoria turned in his embrace and let her palms rest on his chest, arching her back into him while he pulled her impossibly closer.

Her words were cut short with a soul-crushing kiss, his fingers threading into her silky hair at the nape of her neck, twisting her to meet him in a familiar dance.

Their kiss was wet with her tears as she returned each press eagerly. Her hands wound up to his neck and pulled him down to her, willing their bodies impossibly closer.

“I – missed,” she managed between his hungry kisses, “You.”

She heard a low rumble deep in his chest and his hands skimmed her back and palmed her backside, kneading her arse and she let her neck relax, her head falling back and exposing the long lines of her slender neck.

“You have no idea,” he left a trail of greedy, wet kisses up her neck, suckling the hollow of her jaw until she was stifling her moan. Her hands retraced every inch of him she could reach, allowing herself to refamiliarize the planes of his body.

Astoria felt her knees weaken and when she very nearly swooned, he scooped her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and their kisses became ravenous from prolonged starvation.

They had always had two very different sexual persona’s. They had safe, vanilla sex that was painstakingly slow – slow enough that it was almost torture while she waited for completion to find her.

The other was rough and rushed, almost violent in the way they lavished each other’s bodies.

There was no doubt who they were tonight.

He didn’t make it to the bedroom, he dropped her roughly on the dining table and she gasped when his fingers tangled in her golden hair, tugging firmly and wrenching her head back. He wasted no time in biting into the flesh where her neck and shoulder met and when she yelled and clawed her perfectly manicured nails into his chest he lavished a wet kiss over the mark.

She tore away at the buttons of his oxford and deftly yanked open his belt. Her hand dove between them and gripped the steely length of him– pumping once– and smirking as he groaned into her skin.

Blaise’s rushed hands snaked up the skirt of her dress, gripping at the creamy flesh of her thighs until they parted and he stepped into her space.

Her lover set a frantic pace, tugging at her knickers until they slid down past her ankles. Grabbing her hips Blaise slid her forward on the table and laid her back as he pooled the fabric of her dress at her hips and slid into her roughly. Grinning at the moan that escaped her lips.

Her knee hitched up as he filled her and he caught it, pressing it to his chest and sliding out of her. He watched her with a hungry intensity, her back arching into the air and he drove into her again.

“Blaise,” she gasped as he set an almost punishing rhythm into her. His fingers yanked down the sleeves of her dress, her nipples pebbling at the sudden exposure.

His head fell to her breast and his tongue flicked out against her peak while his other hand massaged the flesh of the other.

He had a way of worshipping her when they fucked like this– treating each inch of her body as though it was sacred ground. He was unsparing in the kisses he peppered along her exposed chest and he continued to thrust into her with a reckless passion.

“I’ll need you to come soon, love–” he smirked against her breast and she gripped the back of his head, her fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and he moved his affections to her jaw.

“Oh fuck–” she cursed as his hand wound between them and his thumb glided over the sensitive bundle of nerves and he stood victoriously, looking down at her with lusty eyes.

He continued the delicious curling around her clit as he fucked her with relentless fervor.

She clenched her eyes shut as she recognized the familiar knot tightening deep in her belly, her mouth forming a tiny ‘O’ as he grinned and pressed into her again.

“Come for me, love.”

She unraveled at his words, her thighs tightening around his waist and her fingers clawing at the wood table underneath her.

There was a deep growl in his chest as he watched her, his eyes darkening and his hands stilling. He slammed into her twice more before joining her, his eyes never leaving hers.

 

* * *

 

  
They lay in oversized bed, a tangle of limbs and sheets and a thousand unspoken words. After the third shag, a subtle tension coiled between them. There were things that needed to be said, actions that needed to be atoned – and she’d no idea where to begin.

His hand drew long lazy lines down her spine while her cheek rested on his chest, her fingers running through his chest hair and circling his belly button.

“So, how is this going to work then?” Blaise murmured into her hair.

“Hmm?”

“I just mean, have you thought about this? About how you plan on working this out? Will you swing by on Tuesdays and Thursdays, leaving Friday nights open to still make dinner with Draco?”

She could hear the rising agitation in his voice but she didn’t understand the reasoning behind it. Blaise had any number of excuses to be sore with her, but she was utterly confused by what he was going on about.

She propped up on her elbow, clutching the sheet to her bare chest.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you planning to let Draco know? Or just shag me on the side? I meant what I said – I want you in my life in whatever capacity I’m allowed – but I’m just trying to make sure the boundaries are laid out for me so I don’t go cros– stop smiling like that,” he flustered.

She was giving him a wide, easy grin, her shoulders shaking with laughter as he spoke.

“You really are such a dolt. Do you know that?” she rolled her eyes and gave a delicate snort. She flopped back down next to him with a huff. “I’m not taking you on as my mistress. I’m leaving Draco.” The last words she spoke softly, they were the first time she’d ever said them and it was sobering to hear them aloud.

“Leaving him?” It was Blaise’s turn to pop up and he studied her face, searching for the joke. “You can’t leave him.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Well, that’s technically true. And if I didn’t loathe that Granger-bitch so much, I might ask her to take up the horribly antiquated marriage laws with the Wizengamot next –”

“Get to the point, Tori,” Blaise rushed, his eyes full of eager hope.

“I can’t divorce him,” she said plainly. “But, my extra-marital affairs annul our marriage contract. The closest I can get to leaving him is cheating on him.”

“Tori,” her lover’s eyes widened, “You can’t do that. He’ll have your dowry, you’ll have nothing!”

“I’ll have you,” she said sweetly, reaching up to kiss the tip of his nose. “If you’ll have me,” she shrugged.

He scoffed but didn’t relent in his studious appraisal of her.

“You’re sure?”

The ding of the elevator alerted them both and they sat up straight in the wide bed.

“Expecting someone?” she panicked.

“I have only one guess,” he rolled his eyes at her.

“Zabini!” Draco’s thundering voice boomed through the flat and Astoria felt her heart quicken. She knew there would be a time for this, but she wasn’t as prepared as she wanted to be.

“I’ll get rid of him,” Blaise assured her, sensing her dread. He threw his legs over the bed and found a pair of grey sweats that he tugged them up around his hips.

“ZABINI!” Draco roared again and Astoria felt lightheaded, her fingers curling into the bedsheets.

“I’m coming you prat!” Blaise called back but he stilled as he heard the elevator ding again, his brows falling low in confusion. “Did he leave?” he turned to Astoria, his voice hushed now.

“I don’t want him to catch me like this,” she pleaded. “It’ll feel sneaky and… wrong. I don’t want–”

“I hear you, love. Sit tight,” he leaned over the bed and brushed a quick kiss over her lips and rushed out of his bedroom.

There were a few minutes of murmured voices, she could hear her name being tossed around but when she heard the distinct shrill of Hermione Granger, Astoria’s vision framed red on the edges. An indescribably rage surging up through her chest and she tore out of bed, grabbing at the first thing she could find; Blaise’s white oxford.

She smiled to herself as worked at the buttons and stomped determinedly out of the room.

“Have you seen Astoria? She hasn’t been home. I thought you might have spoken to her?” She could hear the agitation in his voice and she relished every morsel as she rounded the corner.

“Uhhhhh, hmm… Astoria, you say?” Blaise called from his study.  
  
“Right here, Darling,” Astoria’s eyes glittered with joy as she watched Hermione’s jaw slack.   
  
Astoria turned her icy glare on Hermione, who appeared to be attempting to catch lacewing flies with her mouth – her palm frozen in the air as if she were waiting for someone to place a trinket  
  
“Astoria,” Draco sucked in a breath through his nose and ground his teeth, “What in the fuck are you doing here?”  
  
“Don’t put on that jealous husband routine on my account, dear. I know you were shagging this little bint not but 48 hours ago,” the blonde turned her head again towards Hermione, her lips curling up into a condescending sneer. “You ought to shut your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch bugs if you leave it open it like that.”  
  
The curly haired witch mouth clamped shut.  
  
“BLAISE!” Draco shouted, his eyes trained on Astoria with an icy edge, “Will someone please tell me what in the actual fuck is happening here?”  
  
Blaise came out grimacing and dropped a key into Granger’s hand, which she quickly closed around it.  
  
“Well, mate--” Blaise started but Astoria quickly interjected.  
  
“Well, once I found out that you were still fucking your little mistress here--” she glared again at Hermione, “I decided I’d be the bigger person and let you out of this sham of a marriage. I’m sick of it, Draco. Sick of playing second string to her. So there, you’re free. I broke my marriage contract and you are free to have your galleons and your little muggleborn whore.”  
  
“Astoria…” Blaise scolded and turned to his new found friend, “She didn’t mean that last bit. I think she’d like you, Hermione, if she got to know you… which I doubt she will,” he winced.  
  
Hermione hurried to her feet and started slamming her thumb into the elevator button and Astoria’s smiled at her fleeing the scene. Granger may have had the upper hand when it came to Draco but Tori knew how to command a room.   
  
Draco hissed some profanity under his breath and quickly snatched Astoria by the elbow and dragged her into the kitchen.

He slid his fingers through his hair and slammed his palm onto the counter.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, his body vibrating with pent up anger.

“Oh, do fuck off, Draco dear,” she rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve been cheating on me and I’m just done. I’d rather live at my parents' house as a divorcee for the rest of my life than be paraded around like your fucking peacocks. I am not an object for rich men to trade amongst themselves, I am not going to let my value be determined by you.”

“Astoria, that was never–” she held out a palm to stop him and surprisingly enough, he obeyed.

“Don’t. Don’t patronize me, not now. You used me to get what you needed–your money. Well, you have it and you have your little slut to go along with it.” She crossed her arms across her chest and peered up at him in disgust. “We’re done here. Begin the divorce proceedings and I’ll sign them in front of a Magistrate as soon as they are complete.”

Draco’s eyes softened as they raked over her face, a defeated breath ghosting over her.

“I’m sorry, Astoria– for all of it.”

She didn’t want to say it was alright, because it wasn’t but she didn’t blame him. She wanted out just as bad as he did and she had married him knowing he was in love with someone else– just as she was.

She gave him a curt nod and pushed past him, leaving the kitchen from the opposite entrance so she wouldn’t have to lay eyes on that awful woman again. She waited as she heard the elevator doors close, just as Draco screamed her name and finally when Draco departed she stepped out from her hiding spot.

Her hands were shaking from the adrenaline fading from her body and she rushed into Blaise’s waiting arms.

“Well, you sure know how to make a scene,” he laughed into her hair, squeezing her closer to him.

“Ugh,” she groaned, burying her face in his bare chest. “Well, it’s over now. Just have to tell my parents.”

“And the rest of the wizarding world,” he amended and she poked him hard between his ribs.

“What am I gonna do now?” she wondered aloud, unsure of what the next step in her life was even supposed to be.

“Now–” he released her and looked at her squarely in the eyes, “Now, you do whatever it is you want to do.”

She chuckled, “What a novel idea.” She rested her hands on his slender waist and arched her back into him. “And what if what I want to do is you?” her voice husky.

“Well,” Blaise made an exaggerated show of considering it, “I would say, who am I to deny you?”

He bent swiftly at the knees and slung her over his shoulder, her legs kicking into the air and her hands swatting at his bum.

“Blaise Zabini! What on earth–” she laughed carelessly as he drifted back towards the bedroom.

He tossed her playfully onto the bed and crawled atop her, her wrists linking easily at his neck and a smile on her lips.

“I love you, you know,” she confessed with a shrug.

“Yea I know,” the side of his mouth twitched and before she could injure him with a spare elbow or knee, he caught her and kissed her fiercely, her breath catching in her throat as he crushed his lips against hers. “I am helplessly in love with you, Tori. Now, shut up and let me snog you.”

She did. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts so far??
> 
> I've decided to try and get hip with the times and started a Tumblr. Mostly because I created some collages and aesthetics for the story and I want to share them there. Same name, LadyKenz347, if you are interested in seeing some of my Inspo!


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